With An Uh, And An Um
by tasukichiriko
Summary: Trent moves to Boston a few years after the end of canon.
1. Chapter 1

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 1 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<br>Notes: Without realizing it, I actually wrote this and posted it on Daria Fanworks Day. Having been a fan of Daria since the initial series run, and having been familiar with fanfic for the series since 1997 or so, I'm very surprised that I've chosen now to foray into writing for the fandom.

Over the sounds of the slasher flick playing on the TV, Jane Lane heard a peculiar knocking. It seemed to be coming from the front door, but it didn't sound like a hand was doing the knocking. She glanced through the peephole and frowned as she opened the door. "Trent?"

Trent turned slightly so that he could face Jane. "Hey, Janey. Sorry about that. Hands full, so I had to knock with my guitar. It was that or my foot and I'm pretty sure I would have fallen over, so..." He trailed off. "Can I come in?"

Jane stepped back from the doorway. "I guess? Why are you here?"

Trent dropped the duffel bag he was carrying with one hand, then used the free hand to unload several other bags to the floor before carefully putting his guitar down, patting it gently as though to apologize for the earlier abuse. "Um, Wind moved back home."

"Seriously? Why would he do that?" Jane gestured for Trent to join her in the living room where she was quick to turn on the lights and pause the DVD she'd been watching, noticing that the screen paused on a girl who looked a lot like Brittany Taylor.

"Uh, I think he did it because Summer told him he could."

Jane took a seat on the couch and pulled one foot under her. "Sit. Why did Summer think she could tell Wind he could move in?"

"Hmm... I guess because she moved in, too?" Trent sat on the couch and leaned on the arm rest.

Shaking her head, Jane wondered why she seemed to be the only Lane who'd managed to actually move out and stay out for a few years. "So, I'll repeat, why are *you* here?"

"Can I crash here for a bit? I think I need to find a place of my own finally."

Jane bit her lower lip. "I'll have to talk to Daria and Tom."

Trent leaned too far on the arm rest and slipped forward awkwardly. "Tom? I thought they'd broken up. Y'know, for good and stuff."

Jane shrugged. "Well, we're all living in Boston and we're friends. We didn't know anyone else to speak of, so we hung out a lot. One night, we're all at a bar having fun being single and the next night, I'm a third wheel. They've been together since the end of fall semester which was conveniently right before Tom had to find a new place to live."

"So he lives with you guys."

"He and Daria are out on a date now. I think they went to a showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show, but for all I know, they're getting matching tattoos."

"Cool."

"I can, at the very least, offer you crash space on the couch for the night." Jane spread her arms wide. "This is a grade A certified used couch, from Goodwill, not the Dumpster! We offer all of the modern conveniences such as indoor plumping, reasonably clean bedding, cereal and coffee in the morning, and cable TV."

"Thanks, Janey."

Jane nudged her brother with a toe. "What are sisters for? Okay, so, where were you wanting to look for a place?"

"I think in Boston, actually. I've been up here helping you move several times and this place has a great aura."

"That was probably just the lingering college funk in all of the hovels I've lived in. Remember that place I lived where the landlord attempted to fix a leaking pipe with a Gatorade bottle and a roll of electrical tape?" Jane looked around briefly. "I'll be honest. Without Tom, we would have had a hard time affording this place. But it's so worth it! It has a dumbwaiter!"

Trent looked at Jane with a raised eyebrow. "You have another roommate?"

"No, silly. It's like a mini elevator that you put food into and it takes it upstairs for you so you don't spill an entire jar of grape jelly on the stairs like a certain musician I know."

"I wouldn't have spilled the jelly if Penny's parrot hadn't been trying to eat Summer's kid's hamster." Trent put his hands on his knees. "Um, thanks again. I don't know what it is about the rest of our family, but they're kind of weird. You're cool, though, Janey." He laughed briefly before it turned into a cough. "Do you have an extra toothbrush? I think I left mine back at the house."

Jane shook her head. "Nope. But I know Daria does. Her mom bought everything in bulk for her to move in to college with, and she's still working through the first dozen toothbrushes. She'll have pretty much anything else you'd need, too."

"Um, cool." Trent tried to get comfortable on the couch, but it was lumpy and worn. He'd survived sitting on worse, though. In fact, the uncomfortable seating had been the biggest reason he never fell asleep while driving the Tank. "So, how has school been?"

"The usual. I have one professor who just doesn't 'get' me, but he can't fault my techniques, so he can't grade me too low, and then I finally did a sculpture using gummy bears and after turning it in, a few ants swarmed it and got stuck and now that prof thinks I'm a genius and keeps encouraging me to use live bees in a sculpture somehow, and I've lost fifteen pounds because the one restaurant near campus with decent food closed for serving alcohol to minors, so dinner tends to be my one solid meal per day since the school food sucks."

"Wow. And, uh, any boyfriends I should know about? Or girlfriends?"

Jane smirked. "Nobody at the moment. This is not to say that I haven't been on dates, but there just hasn't been anyone lately to inspire a lot of confidence. Though, I can say that I have now made out with a chick. Wasn't too bad, actually. I'd repeat it under the influence of a lot of alcohol, I'm sure."

"Cool."

"Hey, you hungry? I've got half a pepperoni, mushroom and pineapple left. It's not warm, but if you require it, I know where the microwave is."

"Cold's fine, Janey. And, um, thanks."

Jane got up from the couch and grabbed the pizza box from a nearby table. "Trent, uh, why did you decide to come here instead of with any of your friends in Lawndale? I mean, not that I mind, but the guys from the band? Axl? Monique? Would none of them take you in?"

Trent stood up and grabbed the pizza box from Jane. "I don't know if they would have, but I didn't want to ask. The band's over. I was never *that* close to Axl. And Monique? I've made that mistake too many times now. I guess I realized that for as much as I want to stay young and cool forever, I'm closer to 30 than I think I thought I'd make it to, so maybe now's the time for me to stop keeping my eye on the prize and actually try to grab for it." He gestured toward the kitchen. "I think I changed my mind. But, I can probably find the microwave."

He strode toward the doorway he'd passed on the way inside, pretty certain that it had been the kitchen. Just as he was about to head in the doorway, the front door opened and Daria entered with Tom close behind. Daria froze in her steps when she saw Trent and Tom ran into her. As she stumbled forward, Jane heard the commotion and came running into the hallway. "Hey, amiga... I hope it's cool that I told Trent he can crash on the couch tonight. He's, um, moving to Boston."

Tom came out from around Daria and put an arm around her shoulders. "That's great. I hated that we were leaving Jane all alone sometimes."

Daria's eyes narrowed as she turned her gaze to her boyfriend. "She's not a social leper, Tom." She turned back to Trent and her gaze softened. "Can I assume that you have enough money for a deposit someplace?"

Trent grinned. "Um, some. I sold one of my guitars. But it used a lot more gas getting here than I thought, so I probably need more."

Jane put a hand on Trent's shoulder. "You sold a guitar? Well, now I know how serious you are about this."

Daria nodded. "I've got an air mattress that we can toss in the dining room if you needed to stay for a little longer. The table in there is actually a card table, so we can fold it up if we're not using it."

Jane coughed. "This is cool with you, too, Tom. Right?"

"Uh, yeah." Tom squeezed Daria's shoulder lightly. "Say, who's up for some Monopoly?"

End: Chapter 1. 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 2 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Trent woke up suddenly when dawn peeked over the edge of the windowsill and shot fire against his eyelids. Or, so it felt as he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. But with only some flimsy curtains over the windows, there was no ignoring the sunlight warming up his hair. With a groan, he hauled himself up to a slightly-hunched-over standing position from the air mattress and wandered toward the kitchen, pausing only briefly to make certain he was wearing clothes. His eyes fought to close themselves as he rummaged in cupboards and drawers for supplies for the coffeemaker, but he managed to get the machine loaded and hit the start button before needing to collapse in a nearby chair. The kitchen blissfully only had a single window on the west side, so he was spared the sun for a little while. Getting comfortable in the chair, Trent fell asleep to the gurgle of the coffee pot.<p>

Twenty minutes later, Jane descended the staircase in the apartment and sniffed. "Coffee?" she said out loud. Drudging on toward the kitchen, she found Trent lightly snoring in her favorite chair, but there *was* coffee. She poured herself a cup after turning on the light over the stove and drank most of it straight back before rummaging in the cupboards for a cereal bar. She sat next to Trent and tried to figure out how she would sketch his hair if she were drawing this as she ate. She then grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the table and zoned out as she peeled it and broke off chunks to feed herself. She didn't even notice Daria enter the kitchen a moment later.

Daria was rolling her neck back and forth as she reached into the cupboard for a coffee mug, wondering how Tom managed to always luck out and not need an 8am class. She poured the coffee and added sugar before plunking it on the table. She grabbed a bowl, a box of cereal and a container a milk. She prepared her cereal and then added a splash of milk to her coffee. It was then that she noticed Jane and Trent. "Ah!"

Jane woke up from her reverie. "Eh?"

"Sorry. I'm still sleepy. I didn't think you were even in here yet. Normally you don't make the coffee."

"Don't look at me. I think Trent did it. I can't think of any other reason why he'd be in the kitchen this early." Jane poked Trent's shoulder softly which made the man mumble something about alien monkeys. Jane shook her head and turned back to Daria. "You are really cool with Trent here, right?"

"How long was he planning to stay?"

Jane shrugged. "I don't know? I assume he would need to stay until he could actually afford a place, otherwise he'd probably try to sleep in his car, and that isn't good when you're attempting to be gainfully employed."

Daria spooned cereal into her mouth and chewed for a moment. "I don't really see a problem with that. I mean, it *is* good to see him again, and I'm sure it's nice for you to see a family member you don't abhor."

Rolling her banana peel up into a ball, Jane tossed it toward the trash can and smiled when it made it in. "I still sometimes wonder what it would have been like if you'd asked him out sometime."

Her eyes wide, Daria blushed slightly. "No. Don't think like that."

"Yeah, but are you telling me or *you*?"

"I like Trent. He's a great guy, but he has roughly the amount of maturity as a brand new wheel of cheese. Yeah, some part of me still recognizes that he's, well, attractive, but I need someone I can have a conversation with, and someone who wants things out of life and actually tries to achieve them."

"So... it was conversation you were having with Tom the other night?"

Daria's blushed grew darker. "None of your business."

"Trent moved here because he realized his life was going nowhere. He sold a guitar to get here. If nothing else, can we agree that he's moved onto the right path?" Jane glanced at her brother and smiled.

"Yes, Jane, but that doesn't mean I'm going to tear off my top and press my breasts in his face and beg him to take me. I'm with Tom. I'm happy."

Jane grabbed her cereal bar wrapper and mug and stood up. "I never said you weren't." She took care of the items, then left the kitchen, bidding Daria a goodbye over her shoulder.

Daria leaned her head back and sighed. "I'm with Tom. I'm happy. Ugh. That sounds pretty defensive, even to me." She looked over at Trent and felt a hint of a smile pull at the corners of her lips. She glanced at her watch and noticed the time, then hurried to finish her breakfast and clean up after herself. She was out the door only a few minutes later.

As the door closed, Trent startled awake. Smelling the coffee, he turned as though on autopilot and made a cup for himself. He moved out into the living room with his mug and sat on the couch, trying and failing to find a truly comfortable spot. As he drained the last drops from the cup, Tom came down the stairs. "Hey, Trent."

Trent nodded. "Hey."

"How'd you sleep?"

"Um... I don't really know. What time is it?"

Tom glanced at his watch. "Almost 8?"

"Uh, so, I guess I got about 3 hours?"

Sitting down on the couch beside Trent, Tom raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you go to bed around midnight when the rest of us did?"

Trent nodded. "Yeah. But I woke up a few hours later and wrote a song. It was in my head and wouldn't leave."

"Yeah? What's it called?"

"It Was In My Head And Wouldn't Leave."

Tom smiled half-heartedly. "Is that coffee I smell?" He was off to the kitchen.

Trent willed himself to get up and avail himself of the bathroom. He showered, brushed his teeth, and got dressed. By the time he was done, Tom had also left for school. He'd left a note for Trent on the coffee table though, along with a key to the apartment. With a nod, Trent made sure his wallet, keys, a guitar pick, and a pack of gum were in his pocket before leaving. It was earlier in the day that he'd planned to start looking for a job, but maybe it would look good to whoever did the hiring.

An hour later, Trent had a stack of applications from a few gas stations, a few bars, and a coffee shop. On his way back to the apartment, he saw a grocery store up ahead and decided to stop for beef jerky. As he reached the front door, he saw a NOW HIRING sign. Figuring it might be a sign from the universe, he went up to the customer service desk. "Um, hey. I saw you guys have a sign up. About hiring. Can I get an application?"

The woman behind the desk looked a little frazzled. "Do you have any felony convictions?"

Trent shook his head. "No."

"Will you work for $8.50 an hour?"

Trent shrugged. "Sure."

"Can you start now?"

"Uh, I guess."

The woman gestured toward a door to the right of the customer service desk. "Just step in there and say you're the new bagger."

Trent wondered for a moment whether the universe liked playing games with him.

End: Chapter 2. 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 3 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>At the end of Trent's shift, he finally bought his bag of beef jerky and headed toward Jane's apartment. He chewed slowly and tried to guess what Jane's reaction would be to the fact that he was already employed. Good thing he already had a name badge in his pocket to prove it.<p>

When he got to the apartment, the door opened just as he stepped in front of it. "Trent!" Jane practically jumped out of the apartment at him and hugged him tightly. "I thought you got lost or something!"

Trent laughed, ending it in a cough. "Nah. I've been at work."

Jane put a hand on his forehead and led him inside. "Did you eat something strange? You seem to be babbling."

Daria and Tom were sitting together on the couch. Jane gestured for Trent to take the remaining seat on the couch, and she sat in one of the dining room chairs that had been pulled into the living room to make room for Trent's air mattress. Trent sat down and tried not to wince about the lumpiness. "Janey, I got a job. They wanted me to start today, so I did."

Jane sighed. "You didn't get in with the mob somehow, did you?"

Trent raised an eyebrow at his sister and shook his head. "No. I'm a bagger at the grocery store down the street."

Eyes wide, Jane smiled. "Really? How did that happen? I couldn't see you willingly putting in an application there."

"I had a stack of applications from other places, but I really wanted some beef jerky. They had a sign on the door. Everything went kind of fast then, but I just put stuff in bags and take it out to cars for old people and pregnant ladies. They let me take tips, though, so that's cool. It's money."

"That's a very grown-up way of looking at it, Trent," Daria added in. "Are you sure you're Jane's brother?"

Jane smirked. "Would a pod person tell the people who suspect?"

Trent looked back and forth between the two girls. "Um, no pod. But maybe some dinner. I'm really hungry."

"I thought you said you just had some beef jerky," Tom said as he leaned forward to see around Daria's shoulder.

"Yeah, but I can't remember eating anything else today. Wait... I had a cup of coffee this morning. And, uh, two sticks of gum."

Tom smiled. "Then, by all means, someone get this man a cheeseburger!" Jane offered to grab food for the four of them and gathered up her money and a light jacket before leaving.

Daria leaned back on the couch, then squirmed to reposition herself so Tom's arm wasn't pressing against her neck. "When do you work again, Trent?"

"Hmm, in the morning? Yeah. Eight."

"I'll make sure you're up before I leave." She smiled. "I'll also make sure you have more for breakfast than a cup of coffee."

"Thanks, Daria." Trent pointed toward the bathroom. "Gotta do, y'know, stuff."

Daria turned to Tom. "Oh, just as a reminder, I've got a meeting tomorrow for my group project in Global Civ and Culture."

Tom nodded. "Cool. I have to say I'm glad that my big project for Organic Chem is done. Susie sent me the rough draft of the final paper yesterday. She said it's almost finished, so I can sit back and relax now."

Gently punching his side, Daria sighed. "At least part of my project is everyone getting to eat desserts around the world during the presentations. I'm cheating and buying my baklava instead of making it."

"Mmm... culture."

Shortly thereafter, everyone made their way to bed. Jane was a lone holdout for a little while, sitting on the couch and sketching with the TV on quietly while Trent got comfortable on the air mattress. Part of him wanted to turn the opposite way so that the sun didn't shine right in his eyes in the morning again, but he had to admit that it made a handy alarm clock.

Trent moaned loudly when the sun hit his eyelids the next morning. Keeping them tightly shut only made him see a very dark orange haze. There was a rapping on the doorway, and Trent turned to look.

"Here." Daria held out a cup of coffee.

Trent nodded and crawled from the bed. He stood and stretched briefly before taking the cup. "Thanks, Daria."

"There's cereal in the kitchen, fruit, a few blueberry muffins..." Daria gestured toward the kitchen. "Get while the getting's good." She turned and headed to the kitchen.

Trent scratched his head and took a few sips of coffee before attempting the journey. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he thought there might be a clock in the kitchen. A banana and a muffin later, Trent hauled himself in to take a shower and brush his teeth. By the time he finished getting dressed, he had 15 minutes to get to work. It would only take a few minutes to get there since it was just down the street, but Trent decided it would be a bad idea to sit down. The couch wasn't worth the effort, and he was still tired enough to fall asleep anywhere else. He headed out the door, figuring that it had to happen eventually that he would get somewhere early rather than late.

Nine hours later, Trent hung up his apron, bought himself a can of soda, and headed back to the apartment. By the time his lunch break had come around, he'd gotten over most of the sleepiness that had been dragging him along all day. He'd found reserves of energy he didn't know he'd had when he got asked to do things like clean the bathroom. It seemed to him that doing it fast was the way to go, but he also knew that if he didn't clean it well enough, there would just be more to do later. A woman complemented him on how well he managed to pack her bags into her car and tipped him five bucks. He didn't think it was any harder than packing the band and their instruments in the Tank. The same ideas applied to the groceries. You wouldn't put a guitar on top of a highhat, so of course the eggs wouldn't go on top of the bread. And while Jesse could sit on the amp just fine, Max was too heavy, just like you would put the bag with the eggs and bread on top of the bag with boxes of crackers, but probably not the cans of vegetables.

This line of thought brought Trent to the front door. He was pulling out his keys just as the door opened. Tom saw him and he grabbed his shoulder. "Trent! Hey, my partner about my Organic Chem project just called. Her hard drive died and we lost all of our data. We're going to have to work all night to redo the lab work. Let Daria and Jane know?" Trent nodded. Tom started to head off, then turned. "And, since I'm not going to be able to use my bed tonight, if you want to, go ahead." He took off jogging and Trent headed inside. Neither Jane or Daria were home yet, so Trent decided to get a little practice in. He got his guitar out, and sat on one of the dining chairs.

Jane walked in the door a few hours later and found Trent asleep in the chair with his guitar in his lap. She kicked his shin an watched as his eyes opened. "Officer, it was the unicorn. I swear it." His eyes focused on Jane. "Oh. Um, hi Janey."

"Have a good day at work?" She pulled up another dining chair and sat across from him.

Trent shrugged. "It was work. But it wasn't bad, I guess."

"Have you seen Tom? I know Daria's off working on her project."

"Uh... Tom said something about a project, too."

Jane looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe he went to meet Daria for some reason?" She shrugged. "Oh well. Doesn't matter. Want to get some Chinese tonight?"

Trent nodded. "Yeah. Chinese. And then a nap."

Laughing, Jane stood up. "A nap before bed? You're turning into an old man, Trent!"

The restaurant they decided on was imaginatively called "Chinese Buffet". However, the lights of the last letters of each word had burned out, leaving the sign to say "Chin Buff". Trent paid for both of them and happily filled a plate with egg rolls, fried rice, and various combinations of meat, vegetables and sauce that didn't always seem to correspond to what the sign above them said they were. When he joined Jane at the table, he noticed she'd actually started with a bowl of egg drop soup. "You know there's hardly any MSG in that, right?"

Jane slurped up a spoonful of broth. "I'll make sure I get extra on whatever I grab next." She spooned more soup to her mouth and swallowed, then wiped her mouth of a few stray droplets. "how does it feel to be gainfully employed, Trent?"

"I don't know, Janey." He picked a piece of egg out of his fried rice and tossed it in his mouth, chewing briefly. "It's weird. I mean, the band... I used to think that Spiral was going to take me places. But after you left, I don't know. I guess I realized it was all holding me back. I've put so much time into it, and we went nowhere. We couldn't win a battle of the bands against a monkey with cymbals and one of those singing fish."

"To be fair, that guy really knew how to sync up the monkey and the fish." Jane dipped a fried won ton strip into her soup and looked back to Trent.

"Yeah, well, it just didn't feel right anymore. I mean, I love music, but there's more to that in life, I guess. I don't feel like I really need to be famous for my music as long as I can still have time to do it sometimes, and I know I haven't been in Boston long, but it doesn't suck like Lawndale did. I don't want to have to stay in your place, but there's no other safety net here, so if I want this to work, I've got to have a better attitude about working." He bit into his egg roll and looked at Jane.

"Damn, Trent." She put her spoon down and reached over to grab her brother's hand. "You grew up."

Twenty minutes later, Trent used the last bit of his egg roll to mop up the last of the soy sauce on his plate, popped it in his mouth and groaned as he chewed. "Hmm. I think I'll just go to bed instead of taking the nap first."

Jane yawned in response, then smiled. "Sounds good. Let's head back."

The walk was quiet and peaceful. When they got to the apartment, Jane opened the door and held it open for Trent. After closing it and locking it behind her, she turned to Trent. "I'm really glad you moved up here. I'm also really glad that this new Trent that I'm seeing has all of the good bits of the original model, and then some." She leaned over to him and put a quick kiss on his cheek. "You did tell Mom and Dad that you moved, right?"

Trent thought about it for a moment. "Uh, maybe?"

"I'll make sure to bring it up next time they call." Jane backed away from his, waving. "G'night!"

Glancing toward the air mattress and the window above it, Trent remembered Tom's offer from earlier. He didn't have to work the next day, so maybe he could sleep in. He followed the path that Jane had taken up the stairs and let himself into Tom's room. His eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of an actual bed and a window with room-darkening blinds. He tucked himself under the covers and was soon asleep.

Daria got home a few minutes later and let herself in, locking the door behind her. She signed as she put down her backpack and shrugged out of her coat and let it fall on top of the bag. She slid her shoes off and then made the trek up the stairs. It was quick work to get changed into pajamas and brush her teeth. She took her glasses off and put them on her nightstand. After tossing and turning for a while, she slid out from under the covers and opened the door to her room. She bit her lip as she observed the tableau before her, then forged ahead. She quietly opened the door to Tom's room and looked inside. Smiling at the dark figure in the bed, she closed the door behind her and moved quietly across the room. Sliding under the blankets, she slid over slightly until she felt body heat radiating against her. She leaned over slightly and placed a soft kiss on the man's lips, and he responded by putting one arm around her waist and holding her close. Her head pillowed on his other arm, Daria fell asleep to his rhythmic breathing as the day's frustrations melted away.

End: Chapter 3. 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 4 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>As Daria awoke, her thoughts drifted to just how comfortable it was to wake up wrapped in Tom's arms. This was the first time it had happened, though she'd slept in his bed at least twice a week this semester. She turned over in the dim light of the sun finding chinks in the armor of the blinds and ran her hands through her bed partner's hair. "Wake up, sleepyhead." When he groaned, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Her hand trailed down to rub down the side of his face where they stopped along one ear. "Oh, no. Trent?"<p>

Trent woke up quickly as Daria practically threw herself out of the bed. "Daria?"

Standing mute in the center of the room, Daria just stared for a moment. She walked quickly to the door, and headed out to her bedroom, letting the door close loudly behind her.

Shrugging, Trent put his head back down and hoped for a little more sleep.

Downstairs, Jane was already awake and dressed and eating a danish. Hearing the commotion upstairs, she decided to investigate. She made her way up the stairs, pastry in hand, and listened. Daria seemed to be... hyperventilating? She rapped on the door with her knuckles and asked quietly, "Amiga? Can I come in?" When there was no response, she took it upon herself to go in anyway. Daria was sitting on her bed, arms wrapped around herself. "Daria? What's wrong?"

Daria turned to Jane and shook her head. "I... I slept with Trent."

Jane's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "You what?"

"*Just* sleeping, Jane, because I thought he was Tom. He was in Tom's bed! I didn't have my glasses on, so of course I assumed it was Tom." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But, I kissed him." She bit her bottom lip briefly. "Twice."

Jane took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. That's significantly better than what I thought you were talking about at first."

"I cheated. On Tom." Daria's shoulders slumped forward. "I am a horrible girlfriend."

"No. You're a human being. Who needs glasses and didn't have them on."

Daria fell backward on the bed. "I slept with Trent's arms around me, with my head on his arm all night. I kissed him twice. It wasn't until I felt his earrings as I ran my hands through his hair that I had *any* clue."

"Oh, Daria..." Jane lay on the bed next to her and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl.

It was at that moment that Tom chose to knock on the door and open it. "Hey, what do you think you're doing in bed with someone else?"

Daria looked at him with alarm. "Um..."

Jane sat up and smiled at Tom. "Give us girls just a few minutes, would you? Also, um, Trent's in your bed."

Tom nodded. "Yeah. I saw him on my way out yesterday and told him he could use my bed instead of the air mattress."

Finally sitting up, Daria frowned slightly. "Where did you go?"

"Susie lost the lab data for our project and we had to redo it since it's due today. But it's been redone, and it's turned in now. I told Trent, but I guess he forgot to tell you. Sorry. I would have called, but you were meeting about your project when Susie called me in a panic."

Jane piped up as Tom finished, "Now that I think about it, I believe that Trent told me something about where you were, but we were both in bed by the time Daria got home."

Daria reached up and grabbed her head, tangling her fingers in her hair. "Yeah, and I have something to tell you and you might not like it."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"Since I didn't know about you leaving and offering Trent your bed, I snuck in there last night and slept next to him, thinking it was you."

"Oh." Tom took a few steps and sat down in Daria's desk chair. "Well, as long as that's all..."

"It's not." Daria's knuckles were white with how hard she was clutching her head. "I also kissed him, thinking it was you. Twice."

Jane ran a hand down Daria's forearm reassuringly. "She didn't have her glasses on for any of it."

Tom sat back heavily in the chair. "Wow. Um. Wow." He stood up suddenly. "I'm going to get some coffee and think about this. I'm not really mad, though, just so you know." He left the room quickly.

Daria let her hands fall to her sides. "Okay." She looked at Jane suddenly. "I haven't even told you the worst part yet."

Jane rolled her eyes. "What? Did you touch his junk?"

"No." Daria punched her friend in the shoulder softly. "I liked it. A lot. And the very worst part is that I think the only guilt I'm feeling is about not feeling guilty enough."

"Well, you did have a crush on my brother for years." Jane looked at Daria and grinned, but the smile dropped almost immediately. "You never actually got over that crush, did you?"

With a sigh, Daria fell back on the bed. "I am officially a horrible person."

"Well, you're acting maybe a bit out of character."

"No. I'm just realizing that had Trent been a little more awake last night, there might have been more than kissing. I had a crappy project meeting last night, so I kind of came back here hoping to, um, take my mind off of things."

Jane pursed her lips. "Oh." She shook her head softly. "Trent would have realized and everything would have been resolved right away. As it is, you're just embarassed, but if you'd known it was Trent in there, you wouldn't have gone in, right?"

Grabbing a pillow, Daria dropped it on her face and stomped her feet on the bed. She pulled the pillow away, her hair suddenly a staticky mess. "See, that's just it. I wouldn't have gone in, but I would have wanted to." The pillow got tossed to the floor. "I thought I was a pretty good girl. I do my homework, I don't shoplift, I go to all of my classes, I didn't cheat on purpose... but if it comes down to what my mind tells me that I *should* do? Then I am completely amoral."

Snorting, Jane nudged Daria with her knee. "*You* are? You should hear about some of the fantasies I've had about the TA in my printmaking class. Ever seen the movie "The Pillow Book"?"

Daria looked intrigued for a moment. "Are you wanting him to write all over your body, or are you wanting to kill him and use his flesh to make a new sketchbook?"

"Hmm... both." Jane smiled. "Daria, everyone has *thoughts* about bad things. If they don't, it's only because they have the mental capacity of Brittany Taylor. It's what you do that matters." At Daria's momentarily stricken look, Jane revised her statement. "It's what you do *on purpose* that matters."

Sighing, Daria turned on her side. "I still feel ashamed of myself for not realizing earlier that it was Trent and not Tom that I was in bed with. They aren't the same build, so having arms around me should feel different from one to the next, And the lips! There's no way the kisses should have feel the same!"

"There was a certain amount of expectation in what you were doing, Daria. You expected it to feel the same way, so it kind of did. You had no reason to think that anyone would be in the bed other than Tom. Additionally, if Trent was asleep both times you kissed him, then he didn't exactly kiss back, so that's going to color the experience."

"Damn you and your logic. Have you been contemplating the vastness of the universe lately?"

"Ha!" Jane smiled. "Nope. I've been watching rom-coms while you were out with Tom. Well, and slasher flicks. Because that's just a rom-com if the male lead was *really* into you... In a creepy way."

"Thanks, Jane." Daria sat up and hugged Jane.

"You'll probably want to talk to Tom some later, though." Jane hugged Daria back tightly. "And, you're welcome, amiga."

Trent woke up when he heard the door to the room open. "Huh?"

Tom was standing there. "Sorry. I need to get ready for school."

"It's cool, man. Give me a second and I'll be out of here."

Tom looked at him silently for a moment as Trent untangled himself from the sheets. "Did you know that Daria slept in here last night?"

"Um... I thought that was a dream."

Tom shook his head and leaned against the closet door. "She told me she kissed you twice."

"Whoa."

"But you slept through all of it?"

Trent nodded. "Yeah. Dude, I would not steal another man's girl, well, unless she dumped him first, but then it's not stealing."

Tom took a deep breath and breathed it back out noisily. "Okay. I'm going to believe you guys."

"Hey, Daria's pretty decent. She doesn't go behind people's backs with stuff."

Tom smiled softly. "Yeah, um, sure." He gathered up a set of clean clothes and pointed toward the door. "I'm going to go take a shower. You can try to sleep a little longer if you want. I'll... I'll see you later."

Trent fell back against the bed and edged his way back under the sheets as Tom shut the door behind him. His fingers gently brushed against his lips as he stared blankly at the ceiling. "Whoa."

End: Chapter 4. 


	5. Chapter 5

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 5 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>After getting home from classes, Daria headed to the kitchen for a drink. She pulled a glass from a cupboard and set it on the counter near the fridge, opening the door to see what was inside. "Great," she muttered, seeing a single can of caffeine free diet Ultra Cola and a quarter inch of milk, plus two beers of questionable age. "Water it is- Eep!" She knocked over the glass as she suddenly saw Trent in the doorway to the kitchen.<p>

The resulting sound of breaking glass made them both wince. "Sorry, Daria. I didn't mean to scare you."

Fighting the nervousness that had suddenly taken her over, Daria tried to smile. "It's fine. Just let me get the broom and dustpan." The items in question were tucked away in the corner of the pantry. She made quick use of them, and carried the bits of glass over to the trashcan.

"Hey, you'll want to put that in something first."

"What?" Daria glanced at Trent.

"Put it in a paper bag or something first. Then it won't cut up the trash bag." Trent smiled. "You learn things when you're around the bar all the time."

Daria rummaged around in a cupboard and found a small package of paper bags she used to bring her lunch in sometimes. Trent took one from her and opened it, allowing her to pour the glass shards in. He folded the top over carefully and dropped the bag in the trash can. Daria put back the broom and dustpan and went to grab another glass. This one she took over to the sink and filled with tap water. She took a sip and made a face. "Ugh. That's it. I'm going grocery shopping."

Trent shrugged. "Want me to come with you?"

Daria put down the glass and felt her breathing hitch. "Um, sure."

Ten minutes later, they were inside the grocery store where Trent worked.

Almost immediately, Trent saw the manager who had hired him. "Hi, Mrs. Fieldmont."

She glanced up and smiled. "Oh, hi. Weren't you off today, Trent?"

"Gotta buy groceries. We're almost out of milk."

"And is this your girlfriend?"

"Nah. She's too good for me. This is Daria. She's my sister's roommate. I've known her for a while."

Mrs. Fieldmont turned to Daria and extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Daria. We just love Trent around here."

Daria shook the woman's hand and nodded perfunctorily. "He is a pretty great guy."

Trent stepped forward. "We've gotta get our groceries now. My sister should be home soon."

"Okay, Trent. You work tomorrow, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"I'll see you then." She grinned. "Bye!"

Daria turned to Trent and smiled softly. "She actually seems to appreciate you. That's great."

"I'm just glad to have a job. Gotta keeps your eye on the prize."

"Yeah." Daria pointed to the left. "Think we should grab a buggy?"

Trent looked confused for a moment until he saw where she was pointing. "Oh, a cart. Um, yeah. Sure. Just in case."

"We called them buggies in the South, loathe though I am to admit that's where I grew up."

"You don't sound like it," Trent said after grabbing a cart and starting to push it toward the produce section of the store.

Daria fell in step beside him. "And that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"So, pineapple?"

"What?"

Trent pointed to the produce. "Do you want to get a pineapple?"

"Uh, sure." Daria grabbed the one closest to her.

"Naw, Daria, you've gotta get a good one." As she put hers back, he slowly looked them over and grabbed one that was slightly smaller than the rest, but was a bright golden yellow all over.

"Okay. Then, bananas?"

"Yeah." Trent wandered over to the bananas next and started picking up various bunches until he found a grouping of five with just a hint of green on the ends and no noticeable cuts or black splotches. "These." He set them in the cart and continued over to the next section. "Mmm... kiwi." He picked up a few and felt them gently. He rejected one and carefully set the others in the cart before grabbing a third kiwi, squeezing it thoughtfully, and setting next to the first two. "What else?"

Blinking, Daria glanced around the fruit. "How about a pomegranate?"

Trent smiled. "Cool." He glanced through them for the reddest one and grabbed it, adding it to the cart. He stepped behind the cart again and started pushing. "Wait, do we want any vegetables?" He picked up a zucchini and held it toward Daria.

She blushed slightly, but took the zucchini from his hand and added it to the cart. "Grab a small onion. We'll do some stir-fry for dinner."

"Cool. I like stir-fry." He paused a moment. "We can add some of the pineapple."

Daria shrugged. "I guess."

Trent added an onion to the cart and started pushing again. "Cool."

They grabbed a few college student staples that Daria was certain they were low on including bread, peanut butter, macaroni and cheese, ramen noodles, butter, and milk. Trent paused by the meat case to look over some of the packages of beef. "Trent?"

Trent looked up to see a man behind the meat counter smiling at him. "Jeff! Hey. What's good for stir fry?"

The tall bald man looked around. "Pretty much anything would work, but since you're not cookin' it too long, look for a better cut. I actually like the London Broil for that, myself, and it's one of the cheapest this week."

"Sounds good."

"Want me to cut that up for you?"

Trent glanced around. "Well, only if you've got time."

"It's dead right now, but I'm trying to keep busy. They put Ron from produce up front to train because it's so slow." He glanced at Daria. "Just the two of you for dinner? How much meat you need?"

"Uh, about two pounds? I'll put some in the fridge for tomorrow. Want me to bring some for you?"

"That'd be great, Trent! My wife? She's allergic to MSG so the closest thing I see to Chinese is roadkill."

"Cool."

Daria shook her head as she stared at Trent, trying to reconcile everything she'd seen today with her worldview of him. "You know, Trent," she said quietly as Jeff started cutting their meat into small sections, "I'm seeing the strangest parallels between you and my sister right now."

Trent leaned on the cart and tilted his head. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It's mostly because people here just seem to want to do things for you and say nice things about you."

"Well, I'm a nice guy."

"I always used to think you were a bad boy. I thought that's why Monique dated you?"

Laughing, Trent ended up coughing slightly. "Monique was a mistake. She *thought* I was a bad boy because of the earrings and the tattoos and the band. But I was a lot of talk and not much action back then."

"Ah, then you've passed bad boy and gone straight to reprobate?"

"Like Janey would forgive me if I ever actually did become a 'criminale'." He traced the letters stamped in the plastic of the shopping cart handle with his thumbs. "I gave all that up. I really thought about what was important to me, and while music was one of those things, I also realized that I hadn't done a damn thing in my life really worth doing."

Daria nodded and traced a finger around the edge of the cart slowly. "I don't know that you can really say that."

Trent laughed, low in his throat. "Really? I mean, I wasn't quite a talentless hack, but you can only play pubs for so long before you question whether you can actually make it to a higher level. Music as a career might still happen, but not with Mystik Spiral. None of the other guys were willing to put in any more effort than they already were. So I might as well do what I can to survive just in case it just ends up being my kind of expensive hobby."

"When did you get so smart?"

"Obviously not until you left Lawndale. If I'd been smart then, I would have tried to date you."

Daria's jaw fell open slightly, but she was quick to change the action to one of gnawing at her lower lip. "That might have been awkward back then."

"Something tells me it would have been worth it."

Jeff showed up at that moment and set the package of meat in front of them. "Here you go, kids."

"Thanks, Jeff." Trent grabbed the package and placed it in the cart, then started heading toward the front of the store.

Daria followed blindly for a moment, then cleared her throat. "Rice."

Trent turned to look at her. "Hmm?"

"We should get some rice to go with the stir-fry. And maybe some teriyaki sauce. Jane loves it."

Turning the cart, Trent led the way.

There was very little talking as they finished their shopping, at least between the two of them. Several of the cashiers made a point to greet Trent, as did one of the other baggers. Another customer even recognized him and thanked him for helping her previously. Trent was cordial and nearly energetic, but it wasn't *such* a change from the Trent she had known for several years now. He was just suddenly responsible and pragmatic, and those had been two of the factors that had kept her from thinking about him as anything more than a casual fantasy when she was in high school. Trent didn't really have a plan of what he wanted, but he at least seemed pretty set on getting somewhere, and he'd already taken more action on this dream than he had on Mystik Spiral.

Interrupting her string of thoughts, Trent nudged her with a bag. "Do you want to get a few of these?"

Daria quickly grabbed several of the bags, though Trent had grabbed most of them already. Trent stayed a step ahead until they made it to the sidewalk in front of the store where he paused a moment to let her catch up. "I forgot to ask. Do you guys have Tupperware back at the apartment?"

"Something like it, sure."

"Cool. We can take some time when we get back and get the fruit prepped and put in the fridge. Janey used to do that back when she ran track so she'd be more likely to eat the fruit."

"Trent..."

"Hey, it's cool, Daria. I didn't mean to make you embarassed. You can forget I said anything."

"But I don't want to forget..." She said it softly enough that she was certain he hadn't heard her, but the wind must have blown the sound straight to his ears.

"Daria, you know, Tom isn't good enough for you. And I'll be honest and say that it really seems like you're not into him as much as you try to make everyone think. For most people, I wouldn't care, but you're..."

"What? Like a sister?"

Trent paused to look at her for a moment before speaking. "Right now, you're a friend. Whether it's ever anything more is entirely up to you."

Daria felt her eyes burn with the start of tears, but she forced her way past them and forged ahead, leaving Trent to catch up. "How long have you known that I liked you?" she muttered as she tried to force herself to slow down slightly, already hearing the strain in her voice.

"Janey told me a few weeks after you moved to town, but it took me a while to really believe it."

"So why did you flaunt Monique in front of me?"

Trent used his elbow to nudge her and make her stop as he did. "That wasn't what I was trying to do. But, back then I didn't know you as anything other than a slightly cool chick who had started to hang out with my sister. I was grateful to be staying at your place, sure, but I would have been grateful to be staying in the locker room at the YMCA if it meant getting out of our house for a while. But later on, I got to know you, and I started to see where it could all go. But the first time I got it in my head to ask you out, Janey let it slip you were dating some guy at school." I didn't really know it was over until you started fighting with Janey about Tom, and by the time I got up the courage again, you were with him. You're the reason I'm trying to be better, Daria. The universe kept screwing me over when I was being a loser, so I thought that maybe if I tried to make a run to the good then something might happen. But I know it wouldn't if I didn't say anything, so there you go." He panted slightly at the end of the speech and looked at her calmly, though his heart betrayed his demeanor.

Daria felt a shudder up her spine and felt emotions running through her far faster than she typically experienced. "Trent, regardless of my feelings for Tom, I do still feel something for you. What that is, I don't think I can be sure of yet. And beyond that, it's too close to finals for me to willingly throw my life into a big dramatic upheaval. If I did leave Tom, he'd probably move out. I don't know how Jane would feel, either. I'll think about it, though."

"That's the most I hoped for."

The walk wasn't much further, but the distance was filled with thoughts instead of words.

End: Chapter 5. 


	6. Chapter 6

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 6 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>When they got back to the apartment, Daria followed Trent into the kitchen. They made quick work of putting away most of the groceries, but made a point to put the produce, as well as items for their dinner, on the counter they would use as a prep area. When everything else was put away, Trent grabbed for a large cleaver and broke the silence that had been hanging over them since his confession on the way home. "Where's the cutting board?"<p>

The corners of Daria's mouth quirked upward as she opened a drawer a few inches from Trent and extracted a flexible cutting board. Trent smiled and went to work chopping up the pineapple. Daria couldn't help but admire his long fingers as they moved carefully across the pineapple's surface. Her mind started drifting toward fantasy when she noticed Trent's fingers coming near her face. "Here," he said, pressing a small piece of pineapple to her lips. She opened her mouth and allowed the fruit entrance, enjoying the sweet, tangy bite of it. She murmurred her enjoyment and Trent laughed as he popped a chunk into his mouth. "We should go ahead and get out the Tupperware or whatever."

"Sure," Daria said as she rummaged around in a cupboard for several containers and matching lids. She passed them over to Trent and picked up the pomegranate from the counter. "The pomegranate is a fascinating mystery," she said as she turned the fruit over in her hands.

"Oh?" Trent asked as he chopped pineapple into chunks and added them to a plastic container.

"They're used so often in so many different mythologies, but they mean different things to different people. To the Greeks, they're a reminder of Persephone and how she was tricked into eating a few seeds so that Hades could keep her with him for as long as possible. Hera wears a crown in the shape of the top of a pomegranate. Yet they're considered a symbol of fertility and good luck." She peeled the sticker off and rolled it between her fingers. "The Jewish faith and Christianity often consider pomegranate to be the fruit of the Garden of Eden rather than an apple. Many other cultures consider it a symbol of fertility and love, but it never can seem to shake the pall of being associated with both keeping Persephone in hell and in making the crops wither during the barren season."

"Didn't Persephone love her husband?" Trent slid another piece of pineapple into his mouth and chewed thoughfully as he looked at her.

Daria held the pomegranate in front of her. "She learned to love him and came to rule the Underworld with him during the barren season before she had to return to help the crops grow."

"So she loved and was loved. I think it was worth it."

"Hmm," was the only reply Daria gave. She approached the counter and got out another cutting board and a smaller knife. "The least I can do is help." She pulled over another container, then split the pomegranate and deftly began separating the arils from the bits of white flesh and dropping them in the container.

Trent's fingers appeared in her peripheral version to pluck a few arils from the container. Her eyes followed it's path to his mouth and stayed to witness the strong movement of his jaw, the escape of a single drop of juice over his bottom lip, his tongue darting out to halt it's path. She sighed softly, then quickly dragged her attention back to her task at hand. Only a moment later, Trent's fingers were again at her lips. "You should try it." Her mouth opened and she felt three arils hit her tongue, barely coated with the sweet juice. Her mouth closed on Trent's thumb slowly and she sucked on it softly for a moment before retreating a half step and chewing carefully.

"Daria, if you can't take me staying here, I understand. I'm sure I can find someplace else."

"No," she said firmly. "Don't leave."

"But if I'm going to make things too difficult for you," Trent trailed off and glanced down at his thumb, nearly dry now, but lightly stained with the pomegranate's juice. "I don't want to make you do anything that you don't absolutely want to do."

"That's just the thing, though. The things I want to do are the exact same things I shouldn't be doing."

"Doesn't that tell you what you want, though?"

Daria felt her eyes burning again as emotions flowed through her. With the barest hint of tears clinging to her lower lashes, she made a decision. She stood on the balls of her feet and closed the gap between herself and Trent, letting her lips join his. His arms wrapped around her and he tasted of her lips, enjoying the sweetness that was hers alone, though candied by her recent snack. She pulled away and lowered herself down to stand flat-footed, letting her forehead press against Trent's chest. Her glasses dug into his sternum, but he didn't mind much. He relished her warmth, as well as the turn of luck in his favor. "We should finish up this fruit and get started on dinner," he said quietly. "Nothing has to happen."

"Even after that?" Daria pushed backward and gazed up at him thoughtfully as she pulled off her glasses to clean them on the edge of her shirt.

Trent smiled as he saw her eyes unadorned, and the smile grew bigger as her glasses went on and her gaze found focus again. "If that's all I ever get, then I'm still a luckier guy than most."

Daria laughed half-heartedly. "We'll, um, talk later, I guess. Tom should be home soon, and I have to figure out what I want to say."

Trent let her go and turned back to her cutting boards. "I'll finish this up. You can go think, or do something to keep you from thinking." He smiled. "Thanks, Daria."

"For what? The kiss?"

"For giving me a chance."

Daria nodded and left the room before her heart and her hormones overrode her brain and had her leaping on Trent and pulling his clothes off. She'd had a crush on Trent for years now. She had thought that it had gone away, but seeing him again and then seeing the person he had become had turned her world upside down. When Tom was around, she was still able to focus on things. With Trent, everything else paled. Did she really want everything outside of her boyfriend to cease to be important in her life? But hadn't she been like that in the first place with Tom? Hadn't that been how Jane had been with Tom, and the very reason they had fought? Maybe it was actually a sign of the start of a healthy relationship.

She sat on the couch and picked up a magazine from the coffee table, flipping through it idly while she thought, but not noticing any of the contents. She had gotten back with Tom, but why? Because he asked? Because she was lonely and hadn't met anyone else yet? They still fought over the most childish things sometimes, and he never seemed to understand that her course load was significantly heavier than his was, especially since he seemed to only have to take one course per semester that wasn't a load of BS. All of her courses required a ton of reading, a ton of writing, and much more thinking than any of his did. But he'd practically whine and cry if he wanted to go see a movie and she still had a paper to finish or another chapter to read. She didn't understand why he couldn't see a movie on his own, or with a friend, and it was especially infuriating when he got upset a time that she and Jane had gone to a movie he hadn't wanted to see at all.

That phrase embodied their relationship so much, though: she didn't understand. This was still just an extension of her first real relationship, but why should she have to drop everything to be with him unless she wanted to do so? And while their relationship had become a much more physical one (having birth control that didn't need to be taken every day and that wouldn't fail if she had to take antibiotics made it a lot easier to be willing), the physicality wasn't everything she could hope for. Even giving Tom the benefit of the doubt, it seemed like he should be more in tune with her by now. By the end of their copulation, he was always satisfied, and she rarely was. It wasn't to say that Trent would be better, sure, but watching his hands on that pineapple had certainly ignited her imagination. She never really fantasized about Tom. Daria knew that her mind was made up, but since Tom wasn't home yet, she ventured down the path of applying logic to her reasoning.

Even though she had told Trent earlier in the day that she didn't want this to cause dramatic upheaval before finals, wouldn't it anyway whether she dumped Tom or not? Wasn't it better not to prolong the inevitable? Wasn't it unfair to both of them if she kept him hanging on until Christmas break when he would probably expect her to visit his family? And if she already couldn't keep her hands to herself with regard to Trent, then things would just escalate. So, really, for everyone involved, it was the better thing to do. Finally, the thing that would make her happier would be the best thing to do.

So it was that when Tom walked through the door, Daria was ready enough with her thoughts to walk up to him and say the words that no one ever wants to hear: "We need to talk."

End: Chapter 6. 


	7. Chapter 7

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 7 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Trent heard Tom come in and decided to stay in the kitchen. He worked on prepping the rest of the fruit they had purchased as Daria led Tom upstairs to hopefully let him down at least kind of easy. Trent didn't really like the guy, but he'd felt like his heart had been ripped out before, and that never felt good. The shouting started just after he finished slicing the kiwi. As much as part of him wanted to run upstairs to comfort Daria, the rest of him consoled his ego that he could be there after the fact and cause a lot less damage to the situation. Since it didn't seem like they're really gotten to the heart of the argument yet, Trent started on dinner. Rice in a large pot to cook, timer set, meat in a mix of teriyaki sauce and powdered ginger with some of the smaller bits of pineapple to marinate, and vegetables chopped and ready. He added oil to a large pan that looked almost like a wok and let it heat up while he listened carefully to what was happening upstairs. He didn't think that Tom would get physical, but some guys went crazy when their girlfriends broke up with them. Max had gone to jail for that once.<p>

When the oil got hot, Trent dumped in the onions and the chopped bits of a carrot he'd salvaged from the vegetable bin in the fridge. He found a wooden spoon to stir with and kept half his attention on the pan, and half on what was happening almost above his head. Things seemed to be starting to calm down as he dumped the zucchini into the pan. He added a sprinkle of salt and a measure of pepper and kept stirring, trying to tell if things were over yet. He glanced back in the pan and noticed that the onions were translucent, so he added the meat with the pineapple and kept up his stirring. The timer went off, and Trent turned it off, ready to check the rice just as he heard a door slam lightly. Had Tom made it downstairs already?

Jane came into the kitchen, pouting. "Horrible day. Don't ask." She raised her eyebrows as she looked in the pan on the stove. "Food? You know how to make food?"

Trent laughed. "You were away from home for so long this time I had to learn how to make something. I watched a lot of Food Network. I can make my *own* pizza now."

"And I thought that nothing good would come out of this day!"

Trent took a moment to check that the rice was actually done before removing the pot from the stove and turning off the burner. "I won't ask, but if you want to vent, I'll listen."

Jane sighed. "The TA that I liked to fantasize about is gay, not that *that* is such a surprise, but his boyfriend came to class today and it seems he's some big art critic and he thought my piece was horrible."

"What were you working on?"

"Well, it's printmaking class. I was working on this subtractive monotype piece. It was of my sculpture prof making out with a live bee."

Trent raised an eyebrow and went back to the stir-fry. "So, it was kind of a joke, then?"

Jane sighed an leaned against the counter. "Yeah, I guess? I was actually going to give the resulting print to Daria. It's kind of an inside joke thing. But now I don't know if I want to because this critic guy said it was horrible."

"He probably likes that guy who did the spears through paper plates."

Jane smiled. "Thanks, Trent. That was exactly what I needed to hear." A door slammed upstairs and Jane looked upward with alarm. "What's going on up there?"

Trent nibbled on a piece of onion he'd lifted up with the spoon. "Daria's breaking up with Tom."

"Whoa." Jane headed toward the freezer. "I'd better make sure we have ice cream."

"She's kind of breaking up with him so she can be with me, I think." Trent scratched the tattoo on his forearm briefly, avoiding Jane's gaze.

Jane closed the freezer door. "Oh." A smile lit up her face. "This is great! I mean, you guys took way too long to get to this point considering I was trying to get you guys together back in high school, but yes!" She hugged Trent tightly, then let go to twirl around the kitchen. "Oh, damn. This means Tom is going to move out, isn't he?" She bit down on her thumbnail, and made a face. "Yuck, turpentine. But, still, we'll have to get another roommate and Daria doesn't like anybody."

Trent coughed. "Um, I could take his room, you know. I even have references now."

"Yes!" Jane pulled down two plates from the cupboard and set them near the stove. "Food? Ready? Now?"

Turning off the burner beneath the stir-fy, Trent stood back and let Jane attack the food with fervor. "I just hope this doesn't get too crazy tonight."

Tom chose that moment to come into the kitchen, frowning. He glared at Jane and then turned his attention to Trent. "You asshole. If you hadn't come here, things would have stayed like they were."

"Hey, man. It doesn't seem like everyone was happy with how things were." Trent stood his ground, though every fiber of his being was telling him that Tom was going to hit him.

Daria came down the stairs a moment later and entered the kitchen. "Tom, stop. Yes, Trent was a catalyst for this, but it wasn't working anyway. I thought you knew that."

"I knew I loved you!" Tom slammed a fist on the counter and sighed. "I was doing everything I could to make it work."

Daria screamed, her hands in fists at her sides. "That's just it! So was I! And it wasn't working!" She exhaled loudly. "We tried this time and it didn't work. It happens. Would you rather we try until it's time to go to grad school and then inevitably break up then for the same reasons we did before?"

Tom looked to be on the verge of tears. "You're the only girl I've ever felt anything real for."

Jane rolled her eyes as she finished chewing a bite of food. "Thanks, Tom!" She set her plate down and stood, walking toward him. "Now, let's get all of the cards on the table. Daria came to talk to me two weeks before Trent moved in, asking how I would feel if she dumped your ass, only she was nicer with the wording. I told her she should because your ego is larger than your bank account, but she convinced herself to give it one more shot. You should be happy that you got this long with her *and* that she let you in her pants." She cleared her throat. "Now, let's discuss when you'll be moved out."

Defeated, Tom slumped against the counter and turned his head to Daria. "I'll go to a hotel tonight. I'm sure I can get a place this week, even though it's short notice. I'll call to let you know when I can come to get my things." He stood tall suddenly. "It'll be nice to live closer to campus, anyway."

Daria sighed. "Tom, don't give me that. I already know that your parents have a condo half a mile from Bromwell to which you have the keys. It's where your parents stay when they come visit. Elsie told me."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Well, I was *trying* to make you feel bad at least a little."

"That's just it, Tom. I do feel bad. I feel horrible and have felt horrible since we started going down this path again. It's always great in the beginning, and then it goes downhill so fast that it's in freefall. I don't hate you. I don't want bad things to happen to you. What I want is for you to meet a girl that you can have a good relationship with and forget all about the misanthrope you were dating until today. I want us both to be happy, and even if you *are* happy with me, I'm not happy with you. And, yes, I'd like to try dating Trent, but I wanted to do that years before I met you. He isn't the reason. I am the reason why I am dumping you. Please get over yourself, stop insulting people, and go to your condo with the maid who comes by once a week whether anyone stays there or not." Tears were flowing down Daria's face now and she wiped them away angrily. Tom reached out a hand toward her face, but she shook her head.

"I'll go get packed." Tom walked off, but paused in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. "I'll send someone over tomorrow around lunchtime to get my stuff and leave my key."

Daria nodded, letting her arms wrap around herself. "Just have them leave it where the spare key used to be."

Tom pursed his lips and walked away.

Daria let out a shuddering breath and exhaled sharply when arms surrounded her. She looked up to see Trent holding her tightly and she returned the gesture. There was a comfort in the warmth of his embrace that she'd never felt before and it helped fuel the tiny spark of optimism she felt for her future. Trent released one arm and waved Jane over. "Come on, Jane. You know you want in on the group hug."

Jane laughed. "Of course I do!" She dashed over and grabbed her best friend and brother in a bear hug, grunting slightly as she did so. "So, Daria, Trent said he'd take over the rent on Tom's third."

"I had thought he might, but didn't want to assume."

"Hey, I even still have enough money to give Tom enough to cover his part of the deposit."

Daria raised an eyebrow. "We didn't have to put a deposit on this place. The owner heard the name Sloane and decided we must be good people." She shrugged. "Hey, who am I to disabuse someone of their notion to not take my money?"

Trent smiled. "Cool. Then I'm going to buy a new couch for the living room. That thing is murder on my ass."

Jane snorted. "Then Daria will probably want to chip in on that, you know, to preserve her interest in your assets."

Daria laughed softly. "I could go for our first piece of furniture other than shelves that weren't pre-owned. Although, we'll need a new TV in the living room, too. That one is Tom's."

"Oh. Then I guess I'll let Jimmy know I'll buy his after all."

Jane was the first to retreat from the hug. "And is Jimmy selling this TV out of the back of his van?"

"Nah. He's my manager. He just bought a new TV a few weeks ago, one of those really big ones, but then he bought a new car last week and they were throwing in TVs. It's a 42 inch, I think, and he's selling it for something like $150."

Daria relaxed her embrace and leaned back to look at Trent. "Looking at your life is almost enough to make me believe in karma, but then I remember high school." She gestured toward the stove. "Can we eat now?"

Trent headed to the cupboard to grab another plate. "Yeah, but remember to save some for Jeff."

Jane returned to her plate. "I don't know, Trent. This is actually pretty good, and as a starving artist, I'm not sure I'm up to sharing."

Daria raised her eyebrows. "Starving artist? Says the girl who ate an entire pizza in one sitting last week."

"In my defense, it was a medium. Also in my defense, it was delicious. Oh! Did Trent tell you he learned how to make pizza?"

Giving a rare smile, Daria looked up into Trent's eyes. "I can see this being a very happy relationship after all."

End: Chapter 7. 


	8. Chapter 8

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 8 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Daria, in something of a fit of pique, decided to take the day off from school. Trent wanted to call out of work to stay with her, but Daria convinced him that going to one's job when one was scheduled to be there was merely step number one on remaining gainfully employed. She planned to spend the day doing all of the odd jobs around the place that piled up when everyone was busy like emptying the crumbs from the toaster and scrubbing the toilets and making sure the bills to be paid were in their spot on the kitchen table. After Trent headed out to work, pausing to kiss her lightly on the lips, she decided to make a little headway in a novel she had bought weeks beforehand, but hadn't had much chance to read. She was sipping coffee and flipping the page to the final chapter when Jane came downstairs. "Hey, amiga." Daria smiled, but didn't look up from her book. Jane shrugged and headed toward the kitchen for a bowl of cereal and a mug of coffee. She shoveled down the cereal and set the bowl in the sink before taking her coffee with her to sit near Daria in the living room. She sat quietly until Daria finished her book, then leaned forward so her elbows rested on her knees. "You're supposed to be in class now."<p>

"I'm skipping. I need a mental health day."

Jane smiled. "Whereas, my one class today got cancelled thanks to my teacher accidentally drinking a mug of paint instead of his coffee."

"I told you it was dangerous not to have your own mason jar."

"True though that may be, I'm still going to laugh at his misfortune because he laughed at me the time I got the streak of oxide white in my hair." Jane drained the rest of her coffee in one big swallow and had a hard time getting it all down at once. Daria said nothing, but gave her a pointed glance as she took another small sip.

Daria pulled a piece of fuzz from the sleeve of her shirt and flicked it to the side. "Is there anything you'd like to do today? I can't decide if I want to be here just in case Tom comes by to pick up his own things. I'd worry about letting people into the house, but we've got renter's insurance, and I *have* been wanting a newer laptop."

Jane pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear and grimaced. "I kind of planned to paint today. The little place that's been selling my originals just sold two more, so they sent me an e-mail to ask me for two more. I normally have some back-up, but I've been slacking lately."

"Did you get enough for rent next month?"

"Yes! And enough for a new iPod and new running shoes, too!" Jane grinned like a lunatic.

"Good. Then you're off the hook and don't have to hold me while I sob into ice cream about the rich guy that got away."

"You've got Trent to cry to now. So whatever the two of you want to do with ice cream, well, that's your business." Jane pulled one leg up under herself. 'But, seriously, I think my brother assumes that you broke up with Tom to be with him. I'm not sure where he got the idea, but just be warned."

Daria focused on finishing her coffee quickly. "Um, he's maybe not so wrong?"

"Daria..." Jane frowned at her friend. "How much did I miss yesterday?"

"Trent and I went grocery shopping together. He's really turned into a guy that I can see myself being with. And then he fed me fruit and I may have *briefly* sucked on one of his fingers, and then there was a kiss, and then a lot of time with me sitting on the couch and thinking while I waited for Tom to come home."

"You sucked on one of my brother's fingers." Jane shook her head. "Okay. So, should I get a new set of ear plugs?"

Burying her face in her hands, Daria groaned. Pulling herself back up she said, "I don't know. My brain and my body are giving me two entirely different answers on that. My brain says wait until Christmas break to do anything more than a kiss just in case it's so amazing I forget all about school, while my body tells me to go visit him on lunch break wearing nothing but my trench coat."

"I think I have some insight into Trent's preference, if you'd like."

"Ha ha." Daria smirked. "He's actually pretty romantic, but without going overboard about it, and I like that. I never wanted Chez Pierre out of Tom, but Quinn was right when she talked about how annoying movie-burger-backseat is. Well, frontseat. I didn't want the grand gestures and the six month anniversaries and the promise rings. I just want to know that I'm being thought of when I'm not explicitly in front of the person I'm dating."

"So, flowers and chocolate good... as long as they're bought beforehand and not while you're in the store looking at them."

"You make me sound so shallow, Lane." Daria glared at Jane, but a hint of smile still curved her lips.

"Well, Morgendorffer, I hate to break it to you, but it's your shallowness that makes you shallow. But if it makes you feel better, you have the depth of the ocean floor under the Bermuda Triangle compared to your sister." Jane patted Daria on the shoulder.

"Plus, I have scruples."

"Ew, don't talk about my brother like that in front of me!" Jane shook her head and made a face.

Daria rolled her eyes. "And you were the one talking about ice cream earlier."

"Which we are all out of, by the way. Since I'll be painting, I can't get any yet. But if you needed something to do, you could always attempt to visit Trent for lunch... and then bring back a carton of chocolate chip cookie dough."

Glancing at her watch, Daria pursed her lips and considered whether she had enough time to do everything she wanted to do today. "You know, maybe I will. What's an hour? It'll get me out of here, but you'll be here to keep the moving guys from stealing too much. It's only 10:30 though, so I think I'll gather up the things of Tom that aren't in his room and put them in here. I know I'll be all too happy to get rid of his collection of the new wave of National Lampoon's films."

"You mean you aren't going to miss, oh, what was it? Grandma's Boy?"

"I have considered setting the apartment on fire just to destroy that movie."

Jane laughed. "I'll just sit here; glad that Tom never got me to watch that one."

"You're a lucky one, Jane." Daria stood and walked the short distance to the shelf of DVDs that took up a large section of wall in their living room.

"You might want to call ahead to Trent to ask him about lunch. I don't know if he'll go at noon or not."

Daria nodded. "Yeah, that's true. The few times that I've worked retail, I never actually went at a convenient time."

"Don't think back to those dark times. Remember: we're freelance!" Jane pointed a finger in the air to punctuate her comment.

"We can afford to be freelance because we're covered under student insurance. When I get my degree, hopefully I'll actually get a real job so I won't have to worry about that and no longer have to take jobs writing website copy for the Bronies of Boston."

"It was so cute when the lead Brony asked you out."

"He had a pink horse on his shirt. Even if I'd been available, I wouldn't have gone out with him." Daria held up a stack of DVDs with a look of disgust and placed them on the coffee table. "I think that if either of us had actually seen a Steven Seagal movie prior to meeting Tom and *then* found out he liked them, we probably could have avoided a lot of hurt feelings."

Jane's eyebrows went up and she quickly held a finger to her lips. "Shh! Your mother will hear and she'll sue Steven Seagal for inflicting emotional violence upon our persons."

"It's more the Rape of the Gray Matter and the Falling of the Sleep, and there are any number of stupid Hollywood franchises that are as bad or worse."

"I nominate Twilight."

"And that's the only award it should win." Daria scanned through the titles on the shelf and picked up a few. "I don't know if I should add these to the pile or not since we bought them together."

Jane snorted. "He's a Sloane, Daria. Make 'em pay!"

Rolling her eyes slightly, Daria quickly transferred the rest of Tom's DVDs to the coffee table and reached in her pocket for her phone. "Jane, do you know the number for Food Hamlet?"

"Um..." Jane looked thoughtful for a moment, then pulled out her phone and checked her call history. "Yeah! Here we go. I called there last week to see if they sold Pixy Stix." She showed Daria the number and watched as the other girl typed the numbers into her cell phone.

Daria turned to Jane before hitting the send button and said, "If they had Pixy Stix and I find out you're holding out on me, I will kill you in your sleep."

Jane swallowed audibly. "They were out!" She smiled again. "Check while you're there! And don't forget the ice cream."

Daria hit send as she stuck her tongue out at Jane. A few rings later, a chipper voice came on the line saying, "Hi! This is your friendly neighborhood Food Hamlet! My name is Suzie! What can I help you with?"

Tempted to ask the girl to remove fifty percent of the enthusiasm for her voice, Daria forged ahead. "Hi. Um, I need to find out when Trent Lane is going to lunch."

"We don't give out personal information about our employees. I'm sorry."

"I understand that, but I'm his, um, roommate and I was hoping to take him out to lunch today."

"Ooo... Sorry. No can do."

"Can I talk to Trent for a minute?"

"No. He's busy right now."

"If I were to show up in about 45 minutes, what are the chances that I might be able to find out an actual answer to one of my questions?"

"Hmm. Well, I think it would be pretty unlikely since Trent goes on lunch in 15 minutes- Oops!"

"Thanks you." Daria hung up the phone. She turned to Jane. "They're sending him early, it seems, so I'm going to head out. Cat food and pork rinds, you said?"

"Ice cream and Pixy Stix, you heartless-"

"That's enough of that kind of language, Lane. I just hope it's not too late for the Piy Stix to sweeten up your tongue."

Jane rolled her eyes and stood up. "Well, go have fun with Trent. I'm going to paint a picture of an iguana eating a popsicle."

"That kind of thing sells?"

"Eh. That's what I'll start by painting. I get distracted, so it'll probably end up as a greenish naked lady eating a banana."

"Well, I guess I can see the market for that. See you later." Daria slid on her jacket, checked her pockets for her phone, keys and wallet, and headed toward Food Hamlet. When she reached the edge of the parking lot, she glanced across it to see if Trent was pushing a line of carts. He was nowhere in sight, so she figured he would be inside. She got to the doors, noticing they were a little slow to open, and headed through, glancing toward the line of guys standing at the ends of registers and bagging groceries. None of them were Trent, though one had a very similar tattoo. She wondered briefly if he'd seen it in the same magazine that Trend had. She headed toward the customer service counter and checked name tags for one that didn't say Suzie. "Hi, excuse me. Could you tell me where Trent Lane is?"

"Oh, hi! Are you Trent's girlfriend?" The woman, Marjorie, smiled widely, revealing very large teeth that Daria had a hard time looking away from.

"Yes, I am," she found herself saying, then regretted it. "Well, I guess," she back-pedaled. "It's complicated at the moment."

"I understand, honey. Look, Trent's over at the deli right now."

"Okay, thanks." Daria gave a quick smile and turned on her heel to head toward the deli, slightly upset that Trent must already be eating. Only, when she approached the deli, she saw him behind the counter slicing lunch meat and wearing a hair net, plus a chin guard. "Trent?"

"Daria!" Trent smiled. "Hold on a second." He held up a slice of what appeared to be ham in the direction of a middle-aged woman standing to Daria's right. "Is this okay, Mrs. Cunningham?"

"It's perfect. Now, remember, half a pound. No more. I'd rather have a little less than a little more."

Trent smiled and kept slicing until there was a fair pile of shaved ham on a piece of paper, then folded it over, placed it in a plastic bag and tossed it on the scale, hitting a few buttons before a sticker popped out. He slapped the sticker on the bag and handed it to the woman. "Half a pound exactly. Anything else I can get for you?"

"That's all today, dear. I do believe I'll wait until next week to indulge my love of pastrami."

"Have a great day, Mrs. Cunningham." Trent waved and took a moment to wrap the ham in plastic, put a label on it, and put it back in the cold case. "So, Daria, what can I get for you?"

"I heard rumor you have lunch soon."

"Yeah." He glanced at the clock. "Yeah, now. Cool." He pulled off the plastic gloves he was wearing and turned to an older blonde woman behind him. "Dana? It is cool if I break for lunch now?"

The woman looked up from a clipboard and nodded. "Yeah. See you in an hour."

Trent peeled off the netting from his face and hung the apron he was wearing on a hook before coming through a small gate and putting his arm around Daria's shoulders. "Hey."

Daria gave him a shy smile. "Hey. I hope you don't mind me stopping in like this."

"Mind? Nah. I think it's pretty cool." He pointed toward a doorway. "Give me just a sec. I gotta clock out." Nodding, Daria watched him walk away, then spent a few moments looking at various packages of cheese before Trent joined her again. "So, where do you wanna go?"

"There's a pizza place on the road behind here that does a pretty good slice."

"I could go for a slice." Trent gestured for her to lead the way.

"And then you can tell me why you're working in the deli now. I thought you were a bagger."

"I was. But they needed someone in the deli and they asked me. It's an extra two bucks an hour because there's always a chance someone could cut off their thumb."

Daria winced and cleched her hands unconsciously. "Just... be careful."

Trent rolled his eyes briefly, then reached down to clutch her hand. "I will be. If I lost a thumb, I couldn't hold your hand... or play the guitar for you. Besides, there was a whole safety course before they'd even let me go behind the counter."

"Isn't a girl allowed to worry about the, um, guy she likes?" Daria's grip on Trent's hand tightened.

"You can call me your boyfriend if you want, you know. I mean, I know we haven't really talked about it that much, but when it comes down to the terminology, sometimes the English language sucks."

"That's an apt assessment of the situation."

Trent moved his hand from side to side, causing her arm to wiggle. "I want to be everything for you that you'll let me be. So far, boy and friend are two of those things, so we'll start from there and work our way up. Sound good?"

Daria felt a blush cross her face. "Maybe we can talk tonight."

"I'll be off at 5 o'clock."

"I'll be looking forward to it."

They arrived at the restaurant and Trent held the door open for her, letting their hands disconnect. Daria found she missed the contact almost immediately, but Trent quickly made up for it by gently placing his hand against her lower back. The shivers that ran up her spine told her there was no way that she'd make it until Christmas break.

End: Chapter 8. 


	9. Chapter 9

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 9 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>After getting their pizza, Trent smiled over at Daria. "I'm glad you did this. I know it probably won't happen all that often since you've got school most days, but it's nice that it's happening today."<p>

Daria dug into the pizza first and pulled a slice over to her plate, deftly picking up a long strand of melted mozzarella and piling it on top of her slice. "I'm glad I could do this, too. It's kind of strange. When I was with Tom, I always felt kind of bothered to do things with him sometimes. But, you? I always seem to feel the need to tag along."

Trent took a slice of his own and bit into it deeply, wiping a sauce-laden corner of his mouth with a napkin shortly thereafter. "You don't need to feel the need to tag along with me. Just tell me you want me to go somewhere with you and I will, no questions asked. Well, unless I've gotta work, and then I'll just ask if it's important enough to you that I skip work."

"Thanks." Daria felt a grin raise the corners of her mouth and quickly smothered it with pizza. She chewed for a moment and swallowed before talking again. "I don't mean to keep comparing you to Tom, you know. But he was my first in, well, a lot of ways."

Trent set his half-eaten slice of pizza on his plate and gazed at Daria for a moment. "I don't mind, you know."

"Really?"

"Nah. 'Cause, so far, I've come out the winner every time. I feel like this is how it's supposed to be."

"So, then, I suppose you're looking forward to one-upping him in a few areas." Daria worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment while glancing at Trent over the rims of her glases.

Trent breathed a soft sigh as he looked at her and reached over to grasp her hand. "It's not about one-upping Tom or any other guy that's ever been anything to you. It's about being the best that I can be and making sure that it's enough for you."

"You are a walking romance novel sometimes, Trent." Daria laughed softly.

Trent blushed. "I've read a few. You know, just looking for inspiration for lyrics."

"And were the resulting lyrics fit for human consumption?"

"Hmm... not really. I guess you can't use something crappy for inspiration and just hope that you're gonna get some stroke of brilliance in there." Trent scratched at his cheek.

Daria squeezed Trent's hand and let go, returning both hands to her slice of pizza. "It depends on how you feel about it. If you were a really big fan of romance novels, then maybe the passion you had for them would come through in your writing and it wouldn't matter what you actually wrote, really."

"That makes sense, I guess." Trent returned to his pizza with fervor. As he finished off his crust, he took a long sip of soda. "So, I suppose I should make this kind of official. Daria, would you like to go on a date with me sometime?"

Surprised to feel her heart beat faster at the notion, Daria nodded quickly. "Yes. Maybe tonight?"

Trent rubbed a thumb against the small patch of hair on his chin. "Tonight, huh? Yeah. I think I can work with tonight. Do you have anything you'd like to do, or do you want me to surprise you?"

Daria groaned inwardly as she put voice to the strange idea in her mind. "We could find some place to look at the stars."

"Stars, huh? I think I can work with that." Trent nibbled at a piece of green pepper that had fallen off of his pizza.

Daria looked down at the crust of her pizza and decided that she'd had enough. She glanced at her watch and frowned. "We should get heading back soon."

Trent wiped his mouth with the napkin. "Yeah. I'd hate to come back late after they decided to give me more money for a job that's much cooler." He stood up and offered a hand to Daria. She took it and he helped her to her feet with the slightest to pulls. "And I don't have to clean any more bathrooms. I think that's my favorite part. Well, that and the free salami."

They held hands on the walk back to the store, and Daria got lost in thoughts of how she had hardly ever wanted to really touch Tom. She wanted to keep her mind off of the topic, but Trent didn't seem to mind, and he *was* right. Comparison between the two always seemed to end with Tom's failure. And it wasn't that Tom was a horrible person, but rather that Trent just managed to always be more in tune with her. She wasn't sure this relationship would last, either, but she could say that she was significantly less angry in the beginning which seemed to bode well for things to come.

When they got to the store, Daria pulled back on Trent's hand to make him pause. "There are a few things I need to pick up, so I'll say goodbye to you here." She stood on the balls of her feet and kissed him gently, wondering whether it might be worth it to invest in a pair of shoes with a bit of a platform, but the thought floated away as Trent slid an arm around her waist and deepened the kiss just enough to leave her breathless at its end. Trent smiled and waved to her as he walked into the store.

Daria took a deep breath and followed. She grabbed a hand basket and headed toward the candy aisle. In moments, she had two bright pink bags of Pixy Stix tucked in the basket. The ice cream was on the other side of the store, so she browsed a few aisles as she went, picking up a bottle of Ultra Cola and a package of blueberry muffin mix before she reached an aisle that gave her pause. She swallowed reflexively and walked down the aisle, pausing in front of the various kinds of condoms. Tom had been the one of take care of this before, so it was likely that Trent hadn't brought any with him. Whether anything happened tonight or not, it would be irresponsible not to have any kind of protection beyond pregnancy. And in that case, a back-up wouldn't hurt. There were three-packs of a few kinds, and she grabbed one of each. Her knowledge of what ridges and dimples and what-not actually helped with was practically nil, and she didn't know if there would be a size issue either, so four small packages were tucked next to the Pixy Stix. Daria took a deep breath and moved on.

There were roughly 200 kinds of ice cream in the giant freezer case when Daria got up to it. She wandered down the aisle comparing prices and brand names before settling on a two-for-one deal of a brand she and Jane both enjoyed. One carton of chocolate chip cookie dough went into the basket, followed by one carton of peanut butter and fudge ripple. She approached the front of the store and debated whether to chance her purchases with one of the cashiers or to wait in the line for the self-checkout. Deciding that melted ice cream would be worse than a hint of embarassment, she chose the line of a girl around her age and set down her basket.

"Hi! Did you find everything you needed today?" The girl grabbed her basket and smiled.

"Yes, thanks."

"And do you have your Food Hamlet Super Shopper card?" The girl held out her hand. Daria located a particular plastic fob from among the dozen or so hanging on her keychain and handed it to the girl whose nametag was blank. She scanned the fob and handed it back to Daria before continuing. "Ooo! I didn't know they made a peanut butter and fudge ripple flavor!"

Hoping the girl wouldn't comment on *all* of her purchases, Daria nodded and gave a half smile. "Yeah. It's pretty good. I go a step further and add caramel to it."

The girl groaned and her eyes rolled back in her head. "Now I'm going to have to try that. It sounds so good!" She continued scanning the items, not mentioning the other items, but giving Daria a knowing glance. "Hey, aren't you Trent's girlfriend?"

Daria sighed. "Yes."

"Oh, you're lucky. He's such a nice guy! And he's cute, too. But I'm sure you knew that."

Pulling her debit card from her wallet, Daria's smile grew a little bigger. "I had some idea of it."

Laughing, the seemingly nameless girl hit the total button and said, "Your total today is $18.19 and you saved $7.32 with your Super Shopper card. Will that be debit or credit?"

"Debit." Daria slid her card, followed the prompts, and put her card back in her wallet while the receipt printed.

The girl handed her a stack of papers and said, "Okay. Here's your receipt, your Fuel Rewards statement, and a few coupons. Thanks and have a great day!"

Daria grabbed her items which an older man wearing an apron had bagged for her and started to head back to the apartment. She glanced through the coupons quickly and felt her face heat up as she saw one for $5 off a particular lubricant that heated up. She hurried home, hoping that Tom was already gone.

End: Chapter 9. 


	10. Chapter 10

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 10 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: light R (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>When Daria got back to the apartment, she found the door slightly ajar. She pulled her keys from her pocket and braced her thumb against the back of one key and slid it between two fingers as a makeshift weapon like she'd been taught in the self-defense course her mother had made her take before moving to Boston. She pushed the door open slowly with the hand holding her grocery bags and looked inside. Jane was sitting on the couch with a hand up to her mouth and tears drying on the side of her face. "Jane?" Daria dropped the keys back in her pocket and dropped the groceries on the ground and sat on the coffee table in front of Jane. "What's wrong, Jane?"<p>

"I..." Jane wiped her eyes and sniffled. "Tom came over to get his stuff. Since some of it was a little heavier than he thought, I helped him with some of it so he wouldn't have to come back. We got into a fight-"

Daria put a hand on Jane's knee as she said, "Did he hit you?"

Jane sneered. "Ha. If only. No. Um, he kissed me, and then I may have kissed him back, and next thing I know, we're putting his bed to one last use."

"Oh." Daria collected herself for a moment, then reached up to take Jane's hands. "If you're worried about me being upset, I'm not."

"No. If that were it, I'd call it even and get over it. Instead, I'm pissed at myself and afraid because I haven't been taking any birth control and I don't think we stopped to use a condom."

"OH." Daria stood up and pulled Jane with her. "Then we're going to take a quick trip downtown."

"What? To see Tom and tell him off?"

Daria frowned. "No. As much as I'd like to, both of you were irresponsible, so you're both at fault. But, they do make a pill you can take so that you can at least be sure that you won't be, well, you know." She gestured toward the bags. "Let me put the ice cream up and we'll head out. It shouldn't take long, and then we'll dig into it when we get back, okay?"

Jane let out a shaky laugh. "For some reason, I'm imagining what this conversation would be like back in high school."

Letting a smile show briefly, Daria put her arm around Jane. "So maybe I didn't realize that boys didn't actually have cooties until college. Well, most of them. Though, looking into my past, it's no wonder that I expect all boys to do things like try to set their farts on fire."

"Mythbusters tried it. It's possible." Jane leaned agains Daria and smiled. "But, I know what you mean."

"I'm still pretty guarded around people, but you're an exception to the rule, and, to be honest, college, and a boyfriend, and, yes, sex all helped me get more comfortable in my skin, and I'm glad because I know how I would have acted back in high school. I would have turned you to a pamphlet and a school advisor and waited until it seemed you were over it."

"Ice cream."

Daria rolled her eyes and picked up the bag with the ice cream. She carried it into the kitchen and put the whole bag in the freezer. "There," she said. "Now, let's go."

Jane followed her placidly and gave monosyllabic answers to all of Daria's questions until Daria finally frowned. "Okay, Lane, I know we don't really talk about this, but this has been bugging me for a few minutes. Why weren't you on birth control?"

"Um," Jane bit her lip and wouldn't catch Daria's eye for a moment until the other girl's staring finally got to her. "Okay, fine. So, maybe I was kind of saving myself for no real reason and figured that since I was having no luck in love lately, then there was no point in staying on it for a while."

"You were a virgin?"

Jane's shoulders slumped. "Yes. Now in the past tense. Over and foolishly done with."

"It's not that bad."

"Not that bad in this case is having a broken hymen from horseriding camp, not losing your cool with your ex, who's also your best friend's very recent ex, and going from arguing to orgasm in 10 minutes."

Daria quirked an eyebrow upward. "Orgasm? And a whole 10 minutes? Are you sure it was Tom?" She shook her head. "You know, I'm not certain I want to continue down that path. However, whatever you want to do about this, I'll be behind you and be there for you to talk to. So, if you want to try to have a relationship with Tom again, you can. And, alternately, if you want to stomp on his man parts and pirouette, I'll be there to catch you if you fall."

"At least now that you're with Trent you don't need to worry about me trying to exact revenge by stealing *your* boyfriend."

"You are having disturbing thoughts today." She pointed to a building across the street. "We're here."

Jane took a deep breath. "Will you come in with me?"

"Of course I will. Did you think I walked you here so that I could take incriminating pictures? No. You're my friend, not my sister."

"I have a feeling you'd do this for your sister, too, Daria."

"Yeah," Daria said as she hit the button for the crosswalk, "but her I would have charged."

It was almost an hour later when they left the building. Jane had perked up considerably from her earlier demeanor, and Daria was more relaxed around her because of it. "Ice cream time!" Jane shouted and blazed the way home.

Daria followed at a more sedate pace, but made it home very shortly after Jane. There was a bunch of red carnations in a vase sitting on the front steps and Jane was sitting next to them, holding the card that had obviously been attached. "Well, Jane, at least he sent flowers?"

Jane shook her head. "Nope." She handed the card to Daria who looked it over. "Daria, I'm over the moon that tonight we'll be under the stars. Love, Trent." She smiled and tucked the card away into her pocket and sat next to Jane. "Why did Tom leave so fast anyway?"

"I may have kind of shoved him out. I knew you didn't want to see him and I was really mad at myself for letting him get to me like that. I panicked."

Taking a deep breath, Daria picked up the carnations and hugged them to her chest. "Look, I know that things ended badly with Tom before. But you're different people now. You lived together long enough to know whether there's a better chance that you're compatible now. I'm a big girl with a boyfriend of my own and I won't give you grief. If I were you, I would at least call and apologize for kicking him out so fast and maybe invite him out for pizza so you can talk."

"Ugh. Talking. Why does it get people into so many messes?"

"So that we can resort to sex, violence, and other means of non-verbal communication, but still feel superior to animals." Daria stood up. "Come on. Ice cream. I need the sugar and it probably wouldn't hurt you, either. But don't let me eat too much. I'm going out with Trent later."

"Oh. Is that what the cheesy card was about?"

Daria stuck out her tongue. "Maybe." She unlocked the door and ushered Jane in before her. "I told him we should do something under the stars. I'm curious to see how he'll interpret this in date form."

Jane forged ahead to the kitchen and pulled down two large bowls. She grabbed two spoons from a drawer and took the ice cream from the freezer. "Guess we'll see. You wanted the peanut butter, right?"

Carefully setting the vase of flowers on the kitchen table, Daria then walked toward Jane. "Yes. And I can take over. I'll know how much is enough when I see it, and then I need to add caramel."

"Daria..." Jane stuck her spoon in her mouth and sucked the melting ice cream residue off of it. "Just... promise me that you'll be careful with Trent."

"If I didn't know how close the two of you are, I'd be offended. But, yes, I'll be careful. I still think it's more likely that he's going to break my heart than the other way around, though."

"That's not the kind of careful I meant," Jane said as she closed the carton of chocolate chip cookie dough.

"Go look in the other bag on the floor in the living room." Daria closed her own carton and brought both cartons back to the freezer. She took a bottle of caramel syrup over to her bowl and poured a healthy drizzle over it.

"Daria, I don't know that Pixy Stix are going to- Oh! Well, I guess I'll put my ear plugs on the nightstand." Jane came back into the room carrying a red Pixi Stik. She tore off the top and tilted her head back, pouring the candy onto her tongue. "Mmm..."

"Careful. You know they say the red ones make you horny."

"What?" A thin cloud of powder exploded from Jane's mouth suddenly. She laughed and wiped her mouth. "You are horrible, Morgendorffer."

"If I weren't, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself."

"Yeah... I won't argue." Jane took a bite of her ice cream and made a face. "Weird. But... good, I think."

Daria brought a spoonful up to her mouth and slid it inside, careful of a strand of caramel dribbling down. "Mmm..." She swallowed and smiled. "So, do you think Trent would prefer the side-tie lacy panties or the mesh thong?"

Making a face, Jane waved her spoon at Daria. "No. Go away. Your dirty thoughts are attempting to corrupt me."

"You had dirty thoughts years before I did, Jane." Daria dug into her ice cream again.

Jane closed her eyes and tilted her chin toward the sky. "Exactly. I had the thoughts, but not the deeds! You must be the reason behind my sudden fall from grace."

"If you fell from Grace, it's only because that's what you named the couch." Scraping up another spoonful of ice cream, Daria kicked Jane in the shin. "If anyone corrupted anyone, it was you corrupting me. I didn't have a single indecent thought until you introduced me to your brother."

"Then Trent is to blame, and not me." Jane smiled. "I will say that's it's kind of refreshing to be released from virginity now."

"Right, because you needed empowerment and confidence."

"Ah, but think of how I'll be once the confidence I have is grown. Why, I'll be able to ask for a diet soda with just a tiny slice of lemon and three boys will fight over who gets to get it for me!"

"I really should have drowned Quinn at birth. I think that would have qualified me for a Nobel Peace Prize."

"Now you'll just have to try for the Literature one."

"Pulitzer first, then the Nobel." Daria ate the last bite of her ice cream and slid the bowl into the sink. "I think I'll go figure out what I want to wear tonight. Let me know if you need me?"

"Will do." Jane finally pulled out a chair and sat down at the table to eat the rest of her ice cream.

Daria grabbed her bag from where Jane had moved it to the coffee table and headed upstairs, her mind trying to wrap around the possible outcomes of the afternoon's events.

End: Chapter 10. 


	11. Chapter 11

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 11 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<br>Note: I'd like to make a shoutout to iLadieT/i for a little advice on a bit of this. Thanks for your expertise!

When Trent got home from work, Daria had already changed into a dark green sweaterdress with gray leggings and short black boots. She had planned to greet Trent with a kiss, but he held a hand in front of him and said, "Don't come closer. I need to shower for a while."

Daria tilted her head and noticed that Trent was wearing different clothes than he'd gone to work in. "What happened?"

"Someone was stupid and put a case of raw chickens on top of a moving rack. Paulie had to move the rack to get to the olives and the whole thing fell on me. They hosed me off, and then I got to use the chemical shower in the back while they found some clothes for me, but I still feel very gross and I smell."

Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Daria gestured him toward the bathroom. "Then by all means, get clean." Trent walked up the stairs, holding his arms out to his sides. A ghost of a laugh escaped her lips, but she quashed the rest of it. Figuring it might take a while before Trent was done, Daria headed up to Jane's room to check on her. She knocked on the door. "Are you decent?" She could hear Jane stirring inside the room.

"You can come in, Daria." When Daria opened the door, Jane was curled into the fetal position on her bed, holding her abdomen.

Daria sat at Jane's feet. "Hey. How's it going?"

Jane groaned. "Remember how the lady who give me the pill told me that I would have period-like symptoms?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, they're period-like in that I'm bleeding, and cramping. It didn't kick in right away, but I'll blame the fact that I'd just eaten."

"Still better than getting pregnant your first time out." Daria grabbed hold of one of Jane's hands and squeezed it. "Just remember: it's better than the alternatives." She leaned forward to catch Jane's eye. "Do you want me to cancel on Trent so I can stay here with you?"

Jane seemed to consider it, but shook her head. "Nah. Physically, there isn't much you could do for me. And emotionally? I think I could use the alone time."

Daria nudged Jane's foot with her knee. "I'll have my cell phone on me. Call if you need anything. I don't care if it's that you're wanting a magazine that's across the table and you don't feel like getting up."

"You know, a bad friend could abuse that."

"A good friend would know better so that the offer will hold for further occasions."

"Ooo... Good point."

Standing up again, Daria picked up an empty glass from Jane's nightstand. "I'm going to double-check that all of my homework is done. Can I get you another soda?"

Jane nestled her head further into the pillow. "Do we have any juice?"

"Juice. Got it." Daria left the room and came back a few moments later with a tall glass of apple juice. "Here. Juice. Now relax. And, remember that there's some leftover pasta in the fridge if you get hungry."

"Thanks, Daria."

"Just be ready if I ever need to come to you because I've done something I regret."

Jane smiled. "So, tomorrow morning?"

Daria blushed. "Is it bad to say 'I hope so'?"

Kicking her feet toward Daria, Jane made a face. "Ew! That's my brother! Go away."

"Fine. Be that way. See if we invite you!"

Jane shuddered. "I'm going to try to get some sleep. See you in the morning."

"Night, then." Daria lowered Jane's blinds for her and left the room, closing the door securely behind her. As she walked off, Trent came out from the bathroom wearing only a towel around his waist. "Um, hi, Trent."

Trent grinned. "I forgot to grab clothes."

Daria smiled. "I can see where that might be considered inconvenient."

"I'm gonna do downstairs and grab some." He walked down the stairs, but only made it halfway before his towel fell. Daria got a good glimpse of his backside and the sinewy muscles in his arms as he reached down to wrap the towel tighter. She bit her lip and exhaled loudly, but couldn't quite bring herself to look away.

It was several minutes before she heard Trent calling her name. "Hey," he said when she appeared at the top of the stairs. "Are you ready?"

"Sure." She ducked into her room to grab her jacket and a black messenger bag with her wallet and a few other items tucked into it. Trent grinned up at her as she descended the stairs, and Daria briefly felt she had finally found a small patch of common ground with Quinn because she liked the feeling. He'd dressed in a black dress shirt over jeans with only a few scuffed areas, and had topped it with a black blazer as a concession to the cold that definitely took hold in the evenings. "Where are we going?"

Trent laughed. "Let me show you. It's no fun if I tell you."

"Okay. Lead the way." Daria followed Trent outside and she was somewhat surprised to see his old blue car parked close by. "You know, somehow I forgot you had a car. You don't need them much in Boston."

"Yeah," Trent said as he ran a hand across the hood of the car. "I've had her parked on the next block for a while, but I pulled her around this morning. I'm surprised you didn't notice."

Daria opened the passenger door and slid in. "I had more important things on my mind."

Trent settled into the driver's seat and got the car started without too much work. "So what did you do once you got back? Did you have to deal with Tom at all?"

"Um, no. But, uh, Jane did."

"Yeah?"

"Look, Trent, I'm not sure how much I should tell you here. I know incriminating things but I don't know if Jane would be comfortable with me revealing them to you."

"Geez. They did it, didn't they?"

Daria blinked. "Wow. You're good."

"I always had a feeling about the two of them."

"And yet you didn't support it."

"It's like watching a horror movie, Daria. No matter how much you tell her not to, the blonde chick is gonna go upstairs. The black guy is gonna die first. Knowing the something was gonna happen and liking it are two different things."

Daria chose not to talk about the rest of the circumstances surrounding the afternoon. "So, if she does end up dating Tom again?"

Trent clutched the steering wheel tighter. "Then he and I are going to have a talk."

There was silence in the vehicle for a few minutes until Trent pulled the car over onto a dirt road next to a small clearing. "This is where we're having dinner," Trent said.

Daria glanced around. "And are we waiting for them to build the restaurant, or are we just eating the grass with dandelions and mud pies for dessert?" But when her eyes rested on Trent, he was carrying a thick blanket and a picnic basket. "Oh."

"Want to help me spread this out?" Trent set down the picnic basket and partially unfolded the blanket. Daria came forward and helped him spread it over the grass. They settled down onto the blanket and Daria was surprised at how comfortable it was with the thick layer of grass beneath it. Trent opened the picnic basket and started unloading items in front of her. There was a container filled with chunks of melon and strawberries, another of what seemed to be some kind of pasta salad, a third with cold fried chicken, a small package of yeast rolls, and a bottle of Cherry Ultra Cola. Trent then took out plates, napkins, cups and utensils. "There. Dinner."

Daria smiled. "My compliments to the chef."

"Well, I did actually cook the chicken."

The next few minutes were spent divvying out portions of food onto plates and digging in. After starting in on a chicken thigh, Daria leaned back, propping herself up with one arm, and looked up at the sky. "It's too bad we're still close enough to the city that we can't see the stars well."

Trent held a roll in front of his mouth and smiled broadly. "Who says we're done?"

"There's more?" Daria took another bite of her chicken and watched as Trent chewed.

"Yeah. But you gotta wait to see what it is."

"Okay, Trent." Daria tried a bit of the pasta salad and discovered that it seemed devoid of mayonnaise, automatically making it better than most pasta salads she'd tried over the years. She couldn't tell what was in it, but it wasn't bad, so she took another bite.

They talked a little more about Trent's new position at work, and what Daria was doing in her classes, and managed to polish off almost all of the food, leaving only a single chicken wing, a yeast roll, and half the bottle of soda. Trent packed the items back in the picnic basket and helped Daria fold the blanket up. They got back in the car and Daria tried to make sense of where they might be headed as Trent drove off. Suddenly, she squinted at a sign. "We're going to Cambridge?"

Trent grinned. "Yeah." A moment later, they pulled into the parking lot of a large building. It took her a moment, but Daria recognized it as an observatory. Trent grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the building. "Ralph, he's one of the managers, told me about this place. You wanted stars, so I kind of had to."

Daria smiled as Trent paid a small fee for them to enter. "So, we're going to watch a show about the stars or something? Isn't that what they do at these places most of the time?"

"Nah. Not this time. Tonight, we get to use the big telescope." Trent followed a path marked off with arrow signs and Daria was happy to try to keep pace.

The path led them into a circular room where several other people stood waiting to use the large telescope. Through a gap in the ceiling, Daria could see several formations of stars. They were clearer than they had been over the field, and she was glad of it. She and Trent stood counting the stars as everyone else took their turns gazing at them from what seemed to be a much closer vantage point. Finally, the man at the scope said, "Are you two ready?"

Trent stepped forward. "Yeah, thanks." He gestured for Daria to take her turn first.

Daria stepped up to the eyepiece and watched the man show her how to adjust it to finetune her view. Within moments, she had a close look at the galaxy above her and felt suddenly tiny. She was about to pull away from the scope when she gasped slightly as something streaked across the viewframe. "I think I just saw a meteor," she said as she stepped backward.

"Oh? That's great," the man said. "We record everything that gets seen through here and we don't manage active movement often except during meteor showers. There wasn't one tonight, so you're lucky. I'd make a wish." A younger version of Daria wouldn't have done it, but this Daria closed her eyes briefly and wished that Jane could stop suffering because of a bad decision that Daria made in high school.

Trent smiled brightly as he walked past her and took his spot at the eyepiece. He looked for several minutes before finally pulling himself away. "That was cool," he said as he grabbed Daria's hand again.

Daria bit her lip. "Yeah, it was. I had a lot of fun tonight." She leaned a little closer to Trent as they made the walk out of the building. "Did you have anything else planned?"

"Nah. Figured we'd play it loose."

"We could go to bed."

Trent frowned. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you were tired."

Daria grinned. "I'm not."

"Wha- Oh!" Trent grinned back. "Well, I suppose we can head back and see what happens."

End: Chapter 11.

Note: The continuing scene here is too graphic for FF.N. Therefore, it is written and posted in two locations... You may read it at your discretion at either [url=.?f=6&t=5624]the SFMB[/url] or on my [url=.]Livejournal[/url]. Please be warned that when I say graphic, I mean it. It is up to you to know whether reading such material is illegal where you live. This scene is not necessary for understanding the rest of the story when it comes along. 


	12. Chapter 12

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 12 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>When the alarm blared the next morning, Daria edged out of the embrace she'd managed to sleep in with Trent and aimed a slap at her alarm clock. To her frustration, she missed and hit the corner of her glasses, sending them to the floor where they bounced on the carpet. She could make out about where they were, but she couldn't quite get to them because of Trent. She shook his shoulder gently, but he only turned and muttered, "Squirrels" before adjusting his head on the pillow and falling asleep again. She shook his shoulder harder and he grimaced and turned onto his stomach. With a sigh, she tried option three: pinch his butt. His head shot up and he turned to look at Daria. "Hey."<p>

Daria grinned. "Hey. Um, I've got to get ready for school. And don't you work?"

"Hmm... yeah. But, I don't have to go in until 9. Tomorrow, I think I go in at 11."

"Maybe that's a good thing. I can use that time to work on homework." She slid the covers down and straddled Trent. He smiled and reached up to grab her hip. "Hmm, maybe tonight," she said as she continued her slide so that she stood on the floor beside the bed. Trent stuck his tongue out at her, but she barely noticed as she crouched down to pick up her glasses. She slid them on and grinned as she took in just how messy Trent's hair was. "You... look ridiculous."

Trent sat up and ran his fingers along the side of her face. "Well, you look beautiful."

Daria felt a blush heat up her cheeks. "You're amazing," she said quietly as she leaned into his caress.

Standing up, Trent pulled her into a long hug, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head for effect. "You're the amazing one. And last night... Wow."

"I concur." Grinning stupidly, Daria pulled out of the embrace. "Let's go have breakfast."

"Mmm... breakfast. I love breakfast."

They walked downstairs together, though Trent seemed to still be half-asleep as he started to head off in the wrong direction until Daria took his hand and pulled him the right way. Daria could hear Jane already in the kitchen, and was reasonably certain she smelled pancakes. "Hey," she said as they entered the kitchen. Jane gave no response. Laughing to herself, Daria let go of Trent's hand and walked up next to Jane and waved a hand in front of her face.

"Aah!" Jane threw the spatula she was holding at Daria and gasped. "Daria! Make some noise next time!"

Daria rolled her eyes and first pointed to Jane, and then gestured to her own ears. Jane's eyes widened and she grinned sheepishly as she pulled out the ear plugs she had apparently slept in. "Good morning, Jane. I take it you slept well?"

"Like a baby. Well, if that baby had parents who went at it loudly in the next room. And, y'know, didn't have teeth coming in, or an upset stomach, or a wet diaper... Actually, come to think of it, babies don't sleep well at all. Who the hell coined that phrase?" She shook her head as though physically ridding herself of the topic. "By the way, pancakes!"

"Thanks, Lane." Daria took two of the plates over to the table and put one in front of Trent who stared at it blankly. Next, she grabbed forks for all of them and a bottle of syrup. Trent still gave no response. "Jane, how does Trent take his coffee?"

Jane frowned. "Hmm... milk and 3 sugars?"

Daria shrugged and prepared two cups of coffee. She put the sweeter one in front of Trent and then snapped her fingers to get his attention. He saw the cup and grabbed in, drinking down half of the steaming hot brew in one long chug before letting it come back to rest on the table. "Hey, pancakes!" he said as he grabbed for the syrup and poured a drizzle over everything.

"Yes, Trent, pancakes. You should thank Jane for making them."

"Thanks, Janey. Sorry, had a long night." He paused to take a bite of pancake, chewing quickly so he could talk more. "It was a good night, though."

Daria blushed. Jane grinned. Trent ate pancakes.

After breakfast, Daria gave Trent a kiss and stood up from the table to take her dishes to the sink. "I'll get it," Trent said.

"Thanks." She gestured toward the doorway. "I'm going to go get ready for school."

Jane watched her friend walk away and grinned, happy that 'The Misery Chick' was finally learning some happiness. Now if only she could find some again! "Hey, Trent, are there any eligible bachelors at this grocery store you work at?"

"Hmm." Trent stroked his chin absentmindedly. "Maybe. You want me to set you up with someone, Janey?"

"Yes, please."

"Anything in particular you're looking for in a guy?"

"Alternative, but not in a way that's like everybody else. He needs to be cool with piercings. And art. In shape, and able to keep up with me. Cute, but not too cute. And cannot have a name that starts with a 'T'." Jane ticked off the items on her fingers as she spoke, and balled up her hand at the end and grinned at Trent. "Got it?"

"So, Jesse."

Jane rolled her eyes, but then raised an eyebrow. "*Like* Jesse, but not. Preferably a little less of a slacker?"

"Got it, Janey. I'll look around and see who I can find."

"And, it should go without saying, but how about someone you can stand?" Jane piled up the plates and forks and carried them to the sick, turning on the hot water so she could rinse most of the syrup off of the plates before loading them in the dishwasher.

Trent followed with the coffee cups. He loaded them into the dishwasher and went back to grab the syrup bottle and put it away. "Hey, Janey?"

Jane turned from where she'd crouched down to get the dishwasher soap under the kitchen sink. "Yeah, Trent?"

"Do you think I'm good enough for Daria?"

"Short answer? Yes."

"How about the long one."

Jane poured a measure of soap into the dispenser and closed it, then shut the dishwasher and turned it on. "Hmm. Um, give me a second to muddle through this. Okay, Daria is really awesome. She's smart, like genius-level smart. She should probably be with someone who's that smart, too, but it wouldn't make her happy. Alternately, you're my brother. For most sisters, there's never anyone who's good enough for their brother. But Daria is. And since you make her happy, then I'm happy about the two of you together. I won't say it doesn't make me a little lonely, but I have a lot more faith in the two of you to not make me feel like a third-wheel than I do in anyone else."

Scratching the back of his head and smiling, Trent said, "Thanks, Janey. I'll try to find the most awesome guy I can for you." He hugged his sister tightly and mussed her hair good-naturedly.

"Trent! I spent 10 minutes doing my hair already!" Jane pushed him away and punched his arm.

"Looks better now," Trent said as he walked away. "I'm gonna shower. I like smelling like Daria, but I don't want that getting mixed up with fried chicken."

Jane snorted. "Aww, you wouldn't want to eat a piece of fried Daria?"

Trent raised an eyebrow and said lecherously, "Raw, not fried." It was at this moment that Daria appeared in the kitchen doorway again, her eyes wide. "Um, hey, Daria."

"You guys aren't just now realizing your cannibalistic urges, are you? Because if you want to eat someone and get away with it, you should find someone who isn't actually a productive member of society. But, female. After all, according to canvassing of cannibals, the tastiest bit you can have is a female forearm. At least, that's what it said in my psychology book last year."

Jane tilted her head to one side for a moment and pursed her lips. "We'll get Quinn if she comes to visit again. That'll be her punishment for spilling that entire bottle of lavender perfume in the bathroom."

Trent nodded. "I thought I smelled lavender in there sometimes."

Daria grinned. "Just remember to save me a forearm. I'll butter it and eat it like corn on the cob."

"That's dark, Daria." Jane smiled.

"You wanted me to make *light* jokes about eating my sister?" Daria approached Trent who leaned down to kiss her. "I've got to head out now. I have to turn in a paper on one end of campus before running to the other side for my first class which I'll almost certainly be late for since I have to turn my paper in *to* my teacher and she doesn't have a dropbox in her office and she is never early. If I'm lucky, one of the campus rent-a-cops will take pity on me and drive me across campus so I don't die asphyxiating on my own vomit."

Jane piped up, "Better than asphyxiating on someone else's!" She reached over to poke Daria's shoulder. "And, hey! If you'd exercise with me sometimes, you'd be able to get across campus better."

"True, but then I'd have no time to watch porn."

Trent scratched his chin. "Porn. That could be fun to do together."

Daria blushed. Jane grinned. Trent looked confused.

"I've... got to get going," Daria said abruptly.

"Have a good day, Daria." Trent squeezed her hand lightly.

Jane chose to wave. "Bye, amiga. Run like the wind!"

Daria turned and walked to the door, but Trent and Jane could both hear her mutter under her breath, "Hey, porn *is* exercise."

End: Chapter 12. 


	13. Chapter 13

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 13 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>When Trent got home from work, he could hear Daria speaking to someone. He thought Janey said she'd be in the studio on campus for a while, but as he walked further into the apartment, he saw she was on the phone. "Mmhmm. Yeah. I guess." Daria grimaced and pulled off her glasses so she could rub the bridge of her nose. "No, Mom. I promise that I'm not seeing Tom anymore." There was a pause. "I don't care how much you liked him, Mom." Another pause. Daria adjusted her skirt. "Yes, I'm seeing someone now." She smiled. "Remember how I told you Trent moved up here?" Daria frowned. "No." She pounded one fist against the couch. "I'm happy, Mom. For the first time that I can remember, there is nothing going on in my life that makes me miserable except maybe this conversation." She slid her glasses back on and frowned until she looked up and saw Trent. Her lips smiled, even if it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah." She waved to Trent, who returned the gesture. "Of course." Daria rolled her eyes. "Okay, Mom. I love you... What?" She grimaced again. "Okay. Two o'clock. Sure. Bye." She hung up the phone and looked slightly shell-shocked.<p>

Trent came closer and sat down next to her, draping his arm around her shoulders. "Hey."

Daria leaned against him. "Hey." Her tone wasn't nearly as upbeat as his had been.

"What's up?"

"Oh, the usual. Mom called to talk which is fine and dandy, really, until she started talking about how Quinn has a job now and why don't I have one. So, I explained that Quinn just finished a 2 year business degree while I'm working on a 4 year double major program, so I have just enough time for the job I do have and don't yet need to worry about what she considers a 'real' job. Then she said if I didn't spend as much time with Tom, then I could have time to work somewhere part time. I told her about us, and she started harping on how you're older than me and you're going to 'take advantage' of me. And, then I started tuning her out, but it seems I agreed to let Quinn stay here Sunday night. Her new job is with Cashman's, it seems. She's in charge of running store openings, and the local mall is getting a Cashman's."

Placing a kiss on the top of Daria's head, Trent smiled. "It could be worse. She could be staying Saturday *and* Sunday." Daria chuckled. "Don't worry. We'll just show her how happy we are and Quinn can take that news back to your mom."

Daria frowned. "I hope so."

"We should probably go ahead and get that new couch. Otherwise, she'll think we're bums. Heck, with this couch, *I* think we're bums."

Moving closer to Trent, Daria grunted. "Yeah. And this thing does horrible things to my bum."

"It's couches like this that make people arsonists, you know."

"Then let's go couch shopping. There's a place one of mom's clients owns. She gave me the guy's business card when we moved in and gave me some money. I blew it on a laptop instead. Worth it." Daria shifted back to the other side.

Trent stood up. "Cool. Let's go."

Daria stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure. I've still got an online discussion question to answer, but we have to answer in 100 words or less, so I can get it done once we get back. Want to do out to dinner?"

"Yeah. I hear there's a great Mexican place a few blocks over." He smiled. "Fresh chips."

"I could be persuaded in that direction. But, couch first. I had some popcorn when I got home, so I'm not hungry yet."

Trent shrugged. "I work in a deli now. It's like getting to have sandwiches all day long."

Daria finally got to her feet. "I can see the appeal." She kicked the couch. "C'mon, I'll get my coat."

Half an hour later, they were in a large home furnishings store, examining prices on various couches. A short, chubby man approached them and adjusted his tie. "Hi, I'm Kevin. Are the two of you finding everything all right this evening?"

Trent shrugged. "We're just looking."

"Ah, but what are you looking for?"

Daria frowned, but decided to try the man out. "Well, my mom, Helen Morgendorffer, sent us to find a reasonably priced couch."

"Helen, you say?" The man loosened the tie he'd just tightened.

"Yeah."

"What particular features are you looking for? Leather? Microfiber? Sofa bed? Recliner? Matching ottoman?"

Trent looked over at Daria. "A sofa bed could be cool. Quinn could sleep there when she visits." He frowned. "Or, I could, too on most nights."

Daria reached over and grasped his hand. "For visitors, not for you."

Kevin nodded quickly. "Yeah, I think we've got one over here that's just right for you." He led them over to a plush red couch. "It's a sofa bed. This one comes with the mattress inside. We're actually running a special on it right now so it's only $398 plus tax. And, we can throw in matching sheets, a matching blanket, and two matching pillowcases for an extra $25, plus another $59 for shipping."

"Hmm..." Daria trailed off and appeared to be thinking about it deeply, but inside, she was dancing. She and Trent had already seen the couch and discussed buying it at the advertised $598 price without realizing it was a sofa bed. "Trent? I'm okay with it. Are you?"

Trent nodded. "Yeah. And I think Janey'll like it, too."

"And, were you wanting to apply for the financing? We're offering no interest for 6 months."

"Nah. I got it." He pulled out his wallet. "You guys take cash, right?" He looked inside his wallet briefly. "Can we pay extra to get it delivered tonight?"

The man loosened his tie further and undid the topmost button of his shirt. "Let me go speak with my manager about that while I get the paperwork ready." He gestured to the couch. "Feel free to have a seat."

Daria sat down and smiled. "You know, I'd almost forgotten what a couch was supposed to feel like." Trent sat next to her and grinned, shifting back and forth slightly for a moment. "So, I know you said you were getting the couch, but I have enough money that I can pick up half of it easily."

Trent shook his head. "No need. I got my first paycheck. It'll cover the couch. Oh, did I tell you I'm trading an old amp in the back of my car for that TV I told you about? I told him I don't know if the amp works, but he wants it anyway... something about the dial going up to 11."

Daria smiled and was about to respond when Kevin came back out, followed by a tall, thin man. "Ms. Morgendorffer, I'm Todd Chico, your mother's client. We'd like to thank you for coming in to shop with us this evening! We've called our two best delivery guys and they'll be here within the hour to deliver your couch tonight. And, don't worry about the cost. Helen kept me from losing the store last month, and I owe her."

Nonplussed, Daria pointed to the ottoman in front of her. "Then, we'll buy this."

"We'll just throw that in, too. It's no problem."

Frowning, Daria stood up and straightened herself to her full, if still somewhat diminuitive, height. "Look, I know you just called my mother and she gave you her credit number so she can pay for whatever I want. It's how she does things. But I want to buy my first piece of real furniture, not have it given to me. So, let her pay for the couch, but we'll buy the ottoman."

Todd cleared his throat and clasped his hands together. "Of course." He smiled. "You could get her to throw in the matching recliner."

Daria grinned. "I think we'll take you up on that." She glanced at Trent who wore a look of shock. "Does that sound okay to you?"

"Um, yeah."

"Let's do this paperwork, then."

Twenty-five minutes later, Daria and Trent were sitting in a booth at a Mexican restaurant not too far from their apartment. "Can you believe my mother?" Daria said as she dragged a chip through the fresh salsa in front of her.

Trent took a moment to finish chewing his own chip. "I think it's cool. The two of you have this battle of wits going on. You've got to let her win sometimes, but in exchange, you get cool stuff out of it, like a new couch."

"I suppose." She smiled. "I can't believe we're getting a bright red couch. And I kind of like it."

"You just figured Janey couldn't object to that one."

"Or Quinn. Unless that red clashes with her hair. But that'll be worth it, too."

"Hey, I think that's our food." Trent moved the basket of chips off to one side so there was room for their waitress, a pretty Hispanic woman in a black polo shirt and apron over jeans, to put their food down.

"Can I get you anything else?" she said softly.

Trent pointed to the salsa. "Can I get more salsa? I love this stuff."

"Sure." The waitress walked off.

Daria glanced at their plates. "Further proof that most Mexican food is some combination of meat, cheese, and vegetables wrapped in a tortilla."

Trent glanced at his plate. "I think tomatoes are actually a fruit."

"I stand corrected."

"Y'know, Daria, even with all of the weird stuff that was happening tonight, I still had fun shopping with you. And I hate shopping."

Cutting into the tortilla-wrapped item on her plate, Daria smiled. "I think it was also what we were shopping for that helped. I don't like clothes shopping, but I like shopping for books. You like shopping for music stuff, right?"

"And food."

"When you like something a lot, it's easy to be passionate enough about it that you don't mind being around it more than you're willing to be around things you like less."

"And is that why you don't mine being around me?" Trent bit loudly into a plain chip.

Damning the blush that colored her cheeks, Daria nodded slowly. "I thought it was obvious."

"Well, it is now. I couldn't really tell when I first came up here, though. I mean, I came up here to be with you, and I wasn't even sure you wanted me."

"Oh?" Daria lifted a forkful of rice to her lips. "What *was* it that made you decide to do that?" She slid the fork between her lips.

Trent sighed. "Okay, remember when you came home last summer?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"I was dating one of Monique's friends at the time to make her jealous or something. Only, it wasn't going well. monique didn't care, and I *still* can't remember her friend's name. Tina? Toshi? Telly? I just knew she was the Asian one." He paused. "We didn't talk much. Anyway, you came over to get Janey one day, but she was in the shower, and we talked. You started talking about the physics of how showers worked, and I thought it was cool that you knew that. As she kept talking, you just opened up more and more to me, and I felt like I suddenly really knew you, and man, did I like what I was seeing. Just talking, we had a more intimate relationship than I ever had with Monique, and that was without even getting personal. When you came by the next day, I had, uh, kind of arranged for Janey to be in the shower again, just so we could talk more. And this time, you talked about worrying about your father because he insisted on bacon with his whole grain pancakes, and I talked about worrying about Mom and Dad because half the time, they go places where they don't speak the language, so how can Mom make sure there aren't artichokes in anything so she doesn't die of an allergic reaction? But you pointed out that she probably had one of those pen things, so I didn't need to worry, and I told you about Jesse's dad and what they were doing about bacon for *him*, and I just felt this click. It was like my aura had opened up to accept yours into it, and when you went back to Boston, I couldn't stop thinking about you. Um, it didn't hurt that I accidentally saw you half naked in Janey's room when you were changing into pajamas the night you stayed over. So, anyway, I decided that if I wanted to get the feeling and make it last, because it was awesome, then I had to be a better guy than the guy I was being."

The blush that had tinged Daria's cheeks before was full-blown now. She chewed silently for a moment, and Trent worried that he'd said too much. Smiling suddenly, Daria looked up. "Um, thanks." She pushed her fork through the pile of refried beans on her plate. "I didn't really think to question why you were suddenly trying to be with me because it's been kind of a fantasy for years. I mean, I thought you were cute the first time we met, and while there were times when I was mad at you for doing stupid things, I always recognized how great you were to Jane, and how you somehow managed to become more attractive as time went by. I know I told you before that I liked the ways that you've changed, but I never imagined that I was the reason behind it." She let out a puff of breath. "You make me feel good about myself. I feel smart, and sexy, and I feel like I'm worthy of being happy. I've never really felt that before."

"No one deserves to be happier than you, Daria. Well, you and Janey. And I'm pretty happy because I'm with you, and Janey's my sister, but, yeah."

"Yeah, indeed," Daria said as she reached out for Trent's hand. He took hers and squeezed it, then looked around thoughtfully for a moment. "Didn't I ask for more salsa?"

Daria smiled and returned to her food.

End: Chapter 13. 


	14. Chapter 14

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 14 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Jane came in the door and dropped her bag carefully inside. "Hey, can someone bring me a towel?" She was perfectly willing to get clay all over a bus, but not her apartment. She looked up and her eyes went wide. "Whoa. Where did this come from?" she said to Trent and Daria who were sitting together on the new couch. "And I was serious about the towel."<p>

Trent hopped up after rolling his eyes. "Let Daria tell you about the furniture," he said as he jogged up the steps.

Daria shrugged. "Mom seems to have made some kind of deal with Longfellow Furnishings, and possibly the devil, so that if I mentioned her name, she'd pay for what I bought there. And, no, I didn't know. Otherwise, we probably would have gotten something more expensive." She grinned. "Come take a look at it."

Jane gestured futilely with gray clay-covered hands. "Um, in a minute?"

"Fine." Daria stood up and pulled up a cushion. "Sofa bed." She set the cushion back down and walked over to the ottoman and opened it up to reveal a storage compartment. "Ottoman. Matching sheets and blanket for the sofa bed." She pointed to the last bit of the grouping. "Recliner."

"And it's so red!" Jane grinned. "Is it comfortable? Tell me it's comfortable. No! Tell my butt it's comfortable!" She turned around and wiggled her butt in Daria's direction.

"Um, here Janey." Trent gave Jane a funny look, but handed her the towel she'd requested. "It is comfortable. I fell asleep on it once already."

"Then I'm going to go upstairs and shower so I can get in on some of this new couch glory." Jane grinned and took a moment to wipe her clothes down before heading upstairs. She called from the top, "Can someone bring me something to put this towel in? I'm going to soak it in the shower so the clay doesn't set."

Daria laughed. "I guess that one's my turn." She glanced upstairs. "I guess I should also let her know that Quinn's coming for a visit."

"You *could* just let her find out. I mean, that's what she did with me."

"Yes, but I value Jane very much as a friend and there are just some boundaries you don't cross. Remember: lavender perfume."

"Oh, yeah."

Daria headed to the kitchen and returned with the dishpan Jane used to soak her feet after a really long run. "Ew," she said as she carried it upstairs. "It still smells a little like feet."

Trent sat back on the couch and let his arms stretch across the top to either side. There were no lumps in the seat. There were no mysterious stains anywhere. The only smell was the faintest scent of Daria's shampoo. He thought he could get used to this, especially when they had a TV again.

"Daria!" Trent could hear Jane scream from upstairs. There were other noises that followed it, but they were muffled enough he couldn't make out if they were having a conversation or throwing things at each other. When Daria came back downstairs a moment later, the front of her shirt was wet and she carried the dishpan with the wet towel in it. She didn't look at Trent, just walked it over to the washing machine and dumped it in unceremoniously before closing the lid and setting the dishpan on top.

"I take it that could have gone better." Trent grinned.

Daria plucked at the damp part of her shirt. "Oh, no. Jane likes to throw soaking wet towels at me to express her happiness about situations."

"You should get changed."

Daria sat on the edge of the coffee table, noting silently that it actually matched the new furniture somewhat. "Why get changed now? It's too early for pajamas."

Trent shook his head solemnly. "It's never too early or too late for pajamas... as long as you don't wear them out of the house."

"Hmm... No, I don't want to be the only one in pajamas."

"Then we'll do a pajamas party. The three of us will all get in our pajamas and try out the new sofa bed." Trent shook his head at the shocked look on Daria's face. "Not that kind of trying it out."

Daria smirked. "Well, it's not like no one has ever thought about it."

Trent snorted. "Just go get changed. I'll let Janey know."

"Sure. But I'm going to finish that homework first."

"That's cool." He nodded. "Hey, do you guys have any board games? We could, like, make a night of it. A pajama party."

"We have a few. Monopoly, Balderdash, Trivial Pursuit, we have cards... I might have Yahtzee somewhere."

Trent shook his head. "What's Balderdash? I don't think I've played that one?"

"You're given a word that hardly anyone knows the meaning of and you have to BS a definition. Then, the other people are given the choice between the real definition and the made up ones. You score points for choosing the right one, knowing the real definition and writing it down as your definition, and for other people guessing your made-up definition. Well, you also get points if you're the one reading them out and no one guesses the correct answer."

"So, basically, you'd go in with an unfair advantage."

"Something like that."

"No more than two games of it," Trent said as he forced himself off the couch.

Daria smiled and stood up after him. Tom had never wanted to play any of the board games she liked... or was any good at. But thinking of Tom made her think of Jane. Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket as she walked upstairs, she found Tom in her contacts list and hit 'send'. He picked up just as she closed the door to her room. "Hello?"

"Hey, Tom."

"Daria." There was a pause. "Sorry. I kind of took you out of my contacts and didn't recognize the number."

"Meaning you wouldn't have answered if you'd known it was me?" There was a long pause. "Anyway, I'm not calling about anything between you and me. I am, however, calling about a certain thing between you and Jane."

"Oh." She heard Tom sigh into the phone's mouthpiece. "And?"

"And what? You took her virginity, Tom, and then didn't even *call* her!" Daria's voice was suddenly full of emotion.

"What? But, I thought she was-"

"Regardless of what you thought, you ass, Jane was a virgin until that day. She was a wreck when I got home. She wasn't even certain you had used a condom."

"I'm... sorry?"

Daria threw her closet door open and grabbed the first pair of pajamas she saw. "I am *not* the one you should be apologizing to." She sat down on the edge of her bed. "Look, based on this, I'm beginning to think that maybe Susie was more than your lab partner. And if she was, oh well. It's over between us now, so I really don't care. I know that with the way everything ended between you and Jane, you might have just had some issues that worked themselves out in that way. I'm at least glad it happened after I dumped you so that Jane didn't have any additional guilt. But, if you don't want me to find you and use a plastic spork to remove your testicles just so I can choke you with them, then I suggest you give Jane a call tomorrow. Invite her out for coffee. Thank her for a wonderful time together. Then explain that you're very sorry, but you don't think it's a good idea for the two of you to ever even be in the same room again. Got it?"

"Yes." Daria could hear the shakiness in Tom's voice, and was glad of it. "Um, Daria?"

"What?"

"Do you think we could ever be friends again?"

Groaning, Daria clenched the phone hard. "No, Tom. In fact, it was probably a bad idea that we ever tried to stay friends in the first place. You can call me if you absolutely need to, for instance, if you've forgotten something here and would like it returned. But if you're in jail and need bailing out? No. House on fire? No. Dying in a hospital bed? No. So, call Jane tomorrow. Leave her a message if you have to. And then lose her number like you lost mine." Daria hung up the phone and set it on her nightstand while she changed.

Jane stood outside Daria's room; her ear at the door. When she heard Daria stop talking, she paused a moment and then knocked on the door, trying to keep her expression neutral as she entered. "Hey. Got your homework done yet? Trent told me about this slumber party thing we're doing. It sounds like fun. So, um, thanks."

Daria tried to tell if Jane had heard her conversation or not, but Jane's expression wasn't giving enough away to be sure. "You're welcome. And, no, my homework isn't done yet. I've only been in here for a few minutes. I was enjoying the solitude. You know I have to have some before I can do a party."

Smirking, Jane turned to leave the room. "Cute pajamas. Trent's gonna love 'em."

Looking down at her fuzzy mint green pajamas with a penguin print, Daria wondered what bit Trent was going to like, before realizing that it was lower cut than she remembered. Deciding not to change, she headed over to her computer, booting it up so she could write a 100 word response to whatever stupid question her teacher had this time. For once, she was looking forward to a party.

End: Chapter 14. 


	15. Chapter 15

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 15 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Daria cracked one eye open as the alarm on her phone went off. She tried to sit up so she could lean over to turn it off, but two pairs of arms were wrapped around her. She straightened the glasses that had somehow stayed on her face overnight. Their pajama party the night before had ended late enough that no one had the energy to fight the idea of all climbing onto the sofa bed and falling asleep in a big pile. Daria was pretty certain she was sleeping on top of at least one of the dice from where that had played Yahtzee, and possibly a Monopoly game piece. The bed was otherwise rather comfortable, and the impending visit from her sister made her glad of it as Quinn had complained quite a bit about the air mattress on her last visit. The phone continued to blare, but between Trent and Jane, she could barely move. Rolling her eyes, she elbowed Jane sharply.<p>

Jane groaned and sat up. "Hey, that was my boob."

"And that was my alarm." Daria managed to shrug her way out from under Trent's arm and grab her phone to turn the alarm off. "I know you don't have a class until 10, but mine starts at 8 today, so I've got to get ready."

"You know, you could have reminded us last night. You could have gotten a little more sleep." Jane stretched back out as Daria climbed over the blankets and off of the foot of the bed.

"Sleep is for those who have nothing better to do," Daria said. "If it wasn't a biological imperative, I wouldn't sleep at all."

"Not even if every hour of sleep gave you an extra hour of life?"

"Which I would have wasted being asleep, meaning I'd die feeble and embittered because of all of the things I could have accomplished, but didn't."

"I think I need coffee if we want to continue this conversation." Jane slid out from beneath the blankets. "Besides, it feels weird to share a bed with *just* Trent. We did it at that family reunion years ago, but there were like 6 other Lanes in the room, too."

Daria grinned. "But if you slept with Trent, then we'd be even again."

Jane glared at Daria, but the quirk at the corner of her mouth told Daria the joke wasn't too much, too soon. "I'm going to make coffee while you get ready. If you're lucky, I won't poison it."

"If I can survive Dad's penne a la pesto, I can survive arsenic."

"That was the one your mom poured on your dad's head, right?"

"Right. But I don't remember the penne itself being the reason."

"Hmm..." Jane smiled. "I think I know what I want to do for my final in printmaking, now."

"No more bees?"

"Nope. Something about arsenic eaters... and penne a la pesto."

"You can borrow a picture of my dad for inspiration."

"Thanks!" Jane yawned. "Go! Get dressed. Otherwise, the coffee won't happen."

Daria spun on one heel and marched up the steps as Jane hauled herself to the kitchen. She grabbed a quick shower, applied deodorant and Chapstick, and headed to her room. She threw on a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved Raft t-shirt, and a pair of socks and grabbed the various incidental items she knew she'd need like her backpack, phone, keys, a light jacket, and a few other small items that always seemed to scatter their way around her room even if she only occupied it for 5 minutes. By the time she entered the kitchen, Jane was sitting at the table eating her way through a bowl of cereal and glaring at her coffee. "Not cool enough, yet?"

"It had the audacity to burn my tongue. *My* tongue. How will I give lashings today?"

Daria poured a cup of her own. "I hear wet noodles are back in vogue."

"I'm really more of a potato person myself. A thousand lashes with a salty french fry? Ooo... that sounds sadistic. I like it."

"Do you think I should wake up Trent before I go?"

Jane frowned. "Hmm... yes? I mean, it's Trent. If anyone can get back to sleep afterward, it's him." She stirred her cereal. "And, thanks."

"What for *this* time?"

"For not letting things be super awkward last night. It was fun, and it felt a lot like something we would have done in high school if we hadn't thought we were too cool for it then. I'll admit I got kind of scared when you got together with Trent. He's my brother and he's such a big part of my life that I was worried you were going to kind of steal him from me. But, seeing the two of you together doesn't leave me feeling lonely, and I'm glad that you're including me in things. But, I *did* ask Trent to help find a guy for me, so if all goes well, you'll have a little more alone time with him soon."

"I don't begrudge you time with Trent. If you want to hang with him and don't want me there, I expect you to tell me. I can find something to do, I'm sure." Daria took a sip of her coffee and winced. It was still *very* hot. She added another splash of milk to it and stirred it again.

"I'm so glad I met you." Jane grinned.

"Likewise." Daria kicked Jane's shin under the table.

Jane gasped. "Daria! Playing footsie with me? What will I tell Trent?"

"That I was simply fooling myself into believing that I loved him when, all along, it was you?"

"You love him?"

Daria rolled her eyes. "Yes. That's generally what they call it when you feel an excess of positive emotions for someone. He was a good friend before he was anything else, and he was good to you, and you're pretty important to me, so it would seem really silly to not just come right out and say that my feelings for him are excessively in the positive direction."

"That's a big turn around from being the Misery Chick, huh?"

"It really makes you think, huh?" Daria smiled as she glanced at her watch. "Ugh. I need to get going. They've got one of the roads on campus closed for the installation of some modern art exhibit, so traffic will be extra horrible."

"Have a great day, amiga!" Jane said as Daria dropped her dishes in the sink and left the kitchen. "Take a picture of the art for me!"

Daria chuckled to herself and sat down on the edge of the sofa bed. Trent was sleeping peacefully, but she couldn't resist. She leaned down and pressed her lips against his. He responded almost immediately by pulling her on top of him and returning her kiss with fervor. "Trent!" she said as she sat up.

"Morning, Daria. Sorry, couldn't resist. I woke up and heard you talking to Janey."

"So you heard the conversation?"

Trent sat up and brushed a strand of hair from Daria's cheek. "Yeah." He smiled. "And I love you, too."

Daria stood up. "Good. Now, we'll continue this discussion later. I need to get to school."

"Have a good day."

"You, too." She walked out the door and the crisp morning air stole her breath for a moment, but she fought to regain it and found a smile had used the moment to sneak across her face.

End: Chapter 15. 


	16. Chapter 16

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 16 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Trent had really enjoyed his Saturday. He'd crashed on the couch again, and Daria had woken him up with a kiss again. It was something he thought he could really get used to. Coffee was ready, there were scrambled eggs and toast ready for him (even if Daria *did* look scandalized that he ate his eggs with ketchup on them), and he had a few hours before going in to work. When he got dressed for work, he found a $20 bill in his pocket that had gone through the wash with his pants. The day was a short one, only four hours, and slow enough that he didn't have a problem getting everything done, but still busy enough that he never got bored. At the end of the day, he got pulled into the office for his 30 day evaluation, though it was a little early, and told he was doing a great job. So great that he was going to get another $.50 a hour. And then they took his picture because he was going to be employee of the month. He took Janey out to a movie to celebrate, and Daria joined them afterward for dinner at a pizza place near the theatre after she finished some paper. They'd gone home and Janey went to paint while Daria grabbed his hand and pulled him up to her room. The details after that were a little hazy, but when he woke up on Sunday, he felt the happiest he'd ever been. But Daria groaned beside him. "Hey. What's up?" he said as he rolled on his side next to her.<p>

"Quinn's coming into the airport at 2 and I have another paper I need to crank out today."

"They make you write a lot in college, don't they?"

Daria snorted. "That's an understatement. And it's worse for me since I'm double-majoring in creative writing and journalism."

"I could go pick her up, you know. I'm off today."

"Do you even remember what she looks like?"

Trent scratched his chin. "Um, too-skinny redhead who wears a lot of pink? Kind of an upturned nose and a snotty attitude?"

"Close enough," Daria said as she snuggled a little closer to Trent. "You can take my car, too. *I* like your car just fine, but Quinn will scream if the seat she's sitting on has a rip in the upholstery."

"Cool. I've never driven a Lexus before. How did you afford it, anyway?" He kissed Daria's temple.

"It's Mom's old one. She had leased it, but they messed up some kind of paperwork. She took them to court, and won. The settlement was the car." She moved out of his arms to grab her glasses from the nightstand.

"Your mom scares me sometimes."

"You're not the only one."

"Okay, so 2 o'clock? What gate?"

"She'll meet you at the baggage claim. Just look for the 2 o'clock flight from Baltimore coming in." Daria slid over him and padded naked to her closet.

Trent watched as she slid on undergarments, a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. He'd thought previously that yoga pants were perhaps the most attractive thing a hot girl could wear, and the thought didn't fade now. "I can clear out if you want to get started on that."

Daria frowned. "As much as I don't want you to, I've got roughly 10 pages of literature evaluation to do. So, yeah."

"Cool. I'll see if Janey's busy. If not, I've got a guitar."

Only Janey was busy crushing butterscotch and cinnamon candies and mixing them into resin. He'd left her alone and went downstairs to grab his guitar. He supposed he could finally move his stuff up to Tom's old room. It *was* his, now. But between the air mattress, the new couch, and Daria's bed, he hadn't really had any reason to sleep in there. But if Quinn was coming, he didn't want her to make some big deal about his bags being everywhere. It took about 15 minutes to bring everything upstairs, including the air mattress, but he felt accomplished enough that he picked up his guitar and sat on the couch. He checked the tuning first, and tightened a few strings. He hadn't practiced as much as he would have liked lately, but if he was realistic, he had other priorities now. It still felt really good to settle the guitar across his knees, to tighten the strings, and to strum out a few chords.

Letting his mind wander, Trent searched for some new lyrics he wanted to sing. It'd be easy enough to sing something about how happy he was, that that never made *art*. So he thought of Monique, who had pissed him off so much at the end he hadn't even told her he was moving. Within a few minutes, he had enough scratched out on a notepad to work with.

He cleared his throat first and strummed a few notes before settling into a rhythm.

"She gives a heave, and then gives a sigh She breathes air in to let it out in a lie Should I laugh, or should I cry,  
>About her intermittant alibi?<p>

She puts her hands upon my skin,  
>She breathes out, she breathes in,<br>Oh, with her, I just can't win.  
>Your excuses are wearing so thin.<p>

You tear me apart You strangle my heart Leave me in the dark Lost and lonely

You stab me in the chest Push me out of the nest You run off with the rest Why do you hurt me the best?

She holds me close so I can't see All the things she's not telling me I want to give her the third degree But in her arms, I feel so free

You tear me apart You strangle my heart Leave me in the dark Lost and lonely"

As he finished singing, he heard applause. He jerked his head around to see Daria standing at the foot of the stairs and smirking. "I'm going to assume that's not about me."

Trent grinned. "Sorry. Was I playing too loud?"

"No. I came down to get something to drink. Caffeine is student's little helper."

"Cool. So, um, did you like the song?" Trent rested his arm along the top of his guitar.

"You're definitely getting a lot better."

Fingering his pick, Trent said, "So you didn't really like it."

"It's better than most of the Mystik Spiral stuff I've heard, but it's not quite what I normally listen to. I still applaud your devotion to your work."

Trent grinned. "And here I thought I might have a new groupie."

"I guess I could call myself a Trent Lane groupie. Hmm... I'll take it under consideration." She continued her walk toward the kitchen. "I'm going to get my soda now."

"Cool." Trent went back to his guitar. He set the pick down at his side and used his fingers to play for a bit, enjoying the rough sensation and the vibration of the strings against his fingertips. He was lost in a world of music of his own making. He sang a bit more, but it was the playing that he missed so much. Getting paid to jam out a couple of times a week was awesome, even if it didn't pay as well as what he was doing now. He wondered what kind of pub scene there was in Boston and if there was a place for him in it at all.

Trent played for a while before realizing that his fingers were getting sore. He put away his guitar and checked the time. It was close enough to 1pm that he decided to head to the airport to pick up Quinn. He walked upstairs and saw that her door was cracked open. He pushed it lightly and peeked in. "Hey, Daria? Can I get your keys? I'm gonna head over to pick up Quinn now."

Daria seemed not to notice him, so Trent came a little closer. She held up a finger and kept typing for a moment. She hit the return button with a flourish and turned to him. "Sorry. I wanted to get that thought down first." She stood and walked over to her jacket and fished her keys from the pocket. She pressed them into Trent's hand and wrapped her arms around him for a moment, putting a chaste kiss on his lips that he couldn't help but lean into. "Thanks for doing this. I'm making good progress on this, but I still have a lot to do."

"No problem. I've got the time and I'm glad to help." He gave her a little wave and started to leave, but Daria put a hand on his arm first.

"If she tries to make you carry all of her luggage, just drop it all there and let her a cart. *Don't* let her con you into buying her a soda. And, for all that is holy, do not glance below her face or else she'll think you're interested."

"So, treat her like a sister?"

"You don't have to treat her *that* nice."

Trent rubbed his chin for a moment. "So, treat her like a pet?"

"That's more like it."

"Got it. Thanks." Daria waved to him briefly, then turned back to her computer. Trent made his way to her car and noticed that the sky was getting dark. As he got in the car, he glanced at the different switches on and around the steering column and didn't see any kind of switches for lights. Then he remembered that this had been Helen's car, and it was probably state of the art with automatic everything. He looked a little more and *did* find a switch for the windshield wipers, though it had an automatic setting on it, too. Shaking his head, Trent settled himself into the seat and headed for the airport. He managed to get a pretty close parking space and made his inside. The baggage claim was just inside from where he'd entered and it took him a little while to find out which carousel the bags from the Baltimore flight would come out on. But when he did, he found a place to sit and waited.

It was 2:15pm by the time he saw Quinn come down the escalator carrying a pink leather carry-on bag and a matching purse. She wove through the crowd and situated herself near the beginning of the carousel's run. Trent made his way over to her and smiled. "Quinn, right?"

She turned to him with a frown, but she turned it quickly into a smile. "Sorry, but I'm waiting on someone."

Trent rolled his eyes. "Yeah, me."

"Uh, *no*. I'm waiting on my sister's boyfriend." She shook her head and turned back to watching the luggage.

"Yeah. Me." He turned Quinn toward him. "I'm Trent Lane. We've met before."

"Really? Wow. And, Lane? I think that's the last name of her best friend or something. That's *so* weird."

"Um, yeah. Janey's my sister."

Quinn examined him more closely. "Wow. I can see the resemblance, I guess. But you should lose the little soul patch thing. It's so passe right now. Grow it back in about 2 years. I can see it coming back in vogue then." Trent touched his chin protectively. "Anyway, do you think you can help me with my bags when they *finally* come out? They're the cute pink leather ones."

"I didn't know cows came in pink."

"Oh, silly, they're *dyed*! No one would wear that black and white stuff that cows wear, well, unless they were *really* unfashionable. I mean, it's like people who think that you can wear any old floral pattern and even *match* them. I had to fire a girl who mixed roses and daisies. Firing people is so much fun! Well, unless they cry, but then I can find out what kind of mascara they wear, so that's fun, too." She pointed. "Ooo! One of my suitcases!"

Trent watched as the suitcase went past him.

"Uh! Why didn't you grab that?" Quinn glared at him and put her hands on her hips.

"You pointed to it. I thought you were going to get it. You asked for help, you didn't say you were so weak that you couldn't lift a single suitcase."

Quinn groaned. "You would be like Daria. The thought of her already being on live-in boyfriend number two is enough to make me feel like I need to get in at least one date while I'm here. It'll be tough, but I'm sure I can do it." She saw another of her suitcases and grabbed it before Trent could enjoy watching it go by again. "Could you grab the other one when it comes around? I've only got the two."

"I thought you were just staying the night?"

"Oh, you boys are so funny. One suitcase is clothing, plus a steamer so I don't need to iron, and the other is shoes and accessories and hair care. The carry-on has my make-up. I couldn't risk losing that. They discontinued my favorite lip gloss and I'm still in the process of finding another that brings out my eyes but not the two freckles on my nose." She clutched the suitcase she had and smiled. "My other suitcase should be out soon. I'll meet you at the door." She walked off and Trent shook his head, but grabbed the hot pink luggage when it came out and made his way toward Quinn.

"So, 7 o'clock?" she was saying to a tall man with dark hair. "Great! I love that place. I'll meet you just inside the door, okay?" She smiled at the man and waved him off.

When he was gone, Trent moved closer. "Date already?"

Quinn smiled and shook her head. "No. That was the practice agreement to a date. See, this guy wants to take me some place nice which is *great*. So, now I find a cuter guy and agree to go on a date with him. If it's some place even *nicer*, then I go with the really cute guy, but if not, then I have a back-up. Both of them get to say that I agreed to go out with them, *I* get the better date, and if I'm out on a date with one and run into the other, they fight over me. I love it!"

"That's pretty horrible." Trent pushed his way through the door and Quinn followed.

"No, it's not. It's how guys expect to be treated by gorgeous women. I mean, back in Lawndale, if a guy takes you out for pizza, well, that's fine. But if another guy wants to take you to Chez Pierre, then that's better, unless the first guy wants to follow it up with a movie or dancing or an invitation to his father's yacht for the weekend. It's like bidding. Guys who offer chain restaurants like Cluster Burger are bidding low, but guys who offer a place like Chez Pierre show that they really want it, but you have to figure in other things like their car, and how they dress."

Trent stopped to look at Quinn and tilted his head. "But, Chez Pierre *is* a chain?"

Quinn's mouth dropped open. "What?"

"Yeah, there's one here in Boston, and one in D.C., and a bunch more. Haven't you ever seen the ads?"

"Oh no!" Quinn's shoulders dropped. "My whole system... It means absolutely nothing. I'm going to have to redo the whole thing!"

"Um... Sorry."

"No. It's my fault. I should have known. That bouillabaisse was always fishy. That kind of thing always happens at chain restaurants."

"Why wouldn't it be fishy? Isn't that a fish stew?"

"No!" Quinn dropped her suitcase and put his hands over her eyes. "Ohmigod! Toby, how can I be such an idiot?"

"Um, it's Trent." He patted her shoulder gently. "And you can't help it that your sister got all of the brains."

Quinn dropped her hands and frowned at him. "Hey! I *did* graduate near the top of my class at business school, you know."

"Yeah, but did they let you use a calculator?"

"Well, duh. Like that matters."

"Doesn't it?" Trent continued on toward Daria's car. He got there several moments before Quinn and got the trunk unlocked and her first suitcase loaded in. She caught up finally and frowned at him as she put her other suitcase, as well as the carry-on bag, in the trunk and closed it. Her purse came with her to the passenger seat.

"So, Trent," she started as he got in the driver's seat. "How did you meet Daria?"

"Hmm," he said as he backed out of his parking space and headed to the apartment, "I think it was just after you guys moved to Lawndale. She had come to visit Janey at home."

"Oh, and you were, like, home visiting or something?" Quinn pulled out her compact and examined her eyeliner in the mirror.

"Um, no. I lived there."

"What?" Quinn said as she ran a finger lightly along the lower eyelashes of her right eye. "I thought you lived up here."

"Um, no. I moved up here a few weeks ago."

"Did you miss Jane? I miss Daria sometimes, but then I remember we function best if we don't see each other often."

"I moved up here a little bit for Janey, sure, but mostly for Daria."

"Really? That's so romantic! But wasn't she still with Tom then?" Trent didn't answer. Quinn took the time to dig through her purse for her lip gloss and added a new layer. "So is it serious, or are you guys just, like, doing it or something?"

"That's pretty disrespectful to Daria, don't you think?" Trent clutched the steering wheel tighter and wrinkled his nose as the cloying scent of Quinn's perfume took over the vehicle. "Are you always this down on Daria?"

"It's a sister thing, Trent. You just wouldn't understand." Quinn snapped her compact shut again and dropped it and her lip gloss into her purse.

The rest of the ride was silent and Trent was extremely glad. One night was already probably more than he could take.

End: Chapter 16. 


	17. Chapter 17

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 17 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Quinn opened the door and bounced inside. "Daria! I'm here!"<p>

Trent rolled his eyes and moved her suitcases just enough that the door could close. "She's working on a paper right now."

"She's always working on *something*, Trent. But if you don't pull her away from it sometimes, she goes into, like, Brain Overload mode or something." Quinn put her hand on her hip. "Come *on*, Daria! I *don't* have all day."

"I'm in the bathroom!" Daria's angry voice carried down the stairs well enough and Quinn had the decency to look chagrined.

Trent pointed to the couch. "You'll be sleeping here."

"Ooo! It's *cute*! Wait a second, sleeping on a couch? That is *so* not cool."

Trent rubbed his eyes. "It's a sofa bed."

"Oh, okay. I mean, I guess I don't have any right to complain or anything since this *is* making me money. I mean, they paid me to get a hotel room for the night for this, but how could I when Daria lives in town?"

"Is Daria getting any of that money?" Trent glared at Quinn.

"Um." Quinn brushed her hair back from her shoulder. "Of course! I wanted that to be a *surprise*, though. I figured she should get a third-", she looked at Trent again, "a half of what they gave me. So, that's, like, $200."

"Okay, I guess you're not all bad." Trent pointed out the remote control on the coffee table. "Feel free to watch TV. I'm gonna head up and tell Daria to get the money in cash."

"What do you have against me, Trent? You're acting like you don't like me. I don't get that very often."

Trent took a seat on the couch. "You've spent every minute that I've seen you being a self-obsessed bimbo. You're the exact opposite of Daria. And since she and Janey are the two girls I like most in this world, what would make you think that I would fall under *your* spell?"

"Because everyone does?" Quinn smiled.

"I think that's your problem. I mean, I guess you're cute and all, but what do you know about life? What problems have you ever had? Those are the things that make people grow. You're still talking like you're back in high school."

"I have *problems*." She stomped her foot.

"Hangnails and zits don't count." Trent leaned back on the couch and grinned.

"I do *not* have any zits! Ugh!" Quinn finally sat on the other end of the couch and glared at him. "Those *are* problems for popular people. And just because I'm not some constant Good Samaritan, it doesn't make me self-obsessed."

"Nah. The fact that everything you say is about you makes you self-obsessed." Trent stood up. "I'm gonna see if Daria's okay."

"She's *in* the bathroom." Quinn crossed her arms across her chest.

"And maybe she's staying in there just because her sister and her boyfriend are arguing." Trent jogged up the stairs and knocked at the bathroom door. "I want you to know that I have even more respect for you not killing her over the years."

A red-faced Daria opened the bathroom door. "Underneath it all, and I mean *way* underneath it all, she's a good kid."

"I know you *say* that, but I'm just not seeing it." He scratched at his chin and frowned. "I just wish she'd appreciate you more. You're kinda awesome."

"Well, in her world, she's awesome, too." Daria took a step forward. "Let's go in my room for a minute. I feel really awkward talking in the doorway to the bathroom."

"Hmm, yeah. Okay." Trent followed her and took a seat on the bed.

Daria sat down next to him and grabbed his hand and held it. "Look, Quinn and I will never have the relationship that you and Jane have. But she's still family. Isn't that about how you feel about your other siblings?"

"I guess. But up until recently, I didn't do anything for anyone to think I was worth something. So if they thought I was lame, they were right."

"I thought you were pretty worthy." Daria squeezed his hand tightly. "I mean, sure, you were kind of a slacker. But, you were always there for Jane, no matter what. You did what you loved doing and made enough money at it that you didn't have to get a regular job. And you gave me more helpful advice than anyone else I've ever known. I've never forgotten that."

"So you're saying I should give her a chance?" Trent grimaced.

"I'm saying that if you hold your tongue well enough, you can sleep in here tonight."

Trent suddenly smiled. "Well, I *guess* I could maybe be nicer or something."

Daria smiled and squeezed his hand again. "I thought you might see things my way." She stood up and released Trent's hand. I'd better get down there before she discovers that we have the Fashion Channel."

"Ooo! The Bow Report!" they heard squealed from downstairs.

"Too late," Daria said as she headed out of the room and down the stairs. "Sorry that took so long, Quinn. We were making out and I lost all track of time."

Quinn glanced over at her, then back to the television. "Yeah, right. If you were making out, you weren't doing it right. And aren't you old enough to be wearing lip gloss now? That Chapstick is, like, ancient."

Daria sat down next to Quinn and stole the remote. As she flipped through the channels she said, "I have it on good authority that boys don't like the taste of lip gloss. Are you beating them off with a stick because you just can't find one you like well enough to date?"

"Daria! That is so mean. I just like a lot of guys. Each one has something special about them. But so far, the only one that I could really see myself being with was Joey, but that'll never work." Quinn held her hands together on her lap.

"Have you tried?" Trent piped in from where he'd taken a seat on the recliner.

"Of course I did! I dated him the entire last month of high school and after graduation, he asked me to marry him."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Daria shifted to get a better look at Quinn.

Quinn bit her lip. "I told him 'no'. We were about to head off to college in different states. And besides, he was still friends with Jeffy and Jamie and it would feel weird seeing them when I was, like, engaged to Joey. And, he hasn't tried to call me since then, either."

Daria sighed. "Look, Quinn, I'm going to be honest with you here. You're being a moron. For all of the guys that you've dated, if there's one that seems like he's a step above the rest, then maybe he is, or at least he is to you. My suggestion? Find out if he's taken now. If he isn't, visit him and see what happens. Either you'll end up living happily ever after and all of that crap, or you'll realize he isn't as great as you remember and you'll stop measuring every guy you meet against him."

Quinn hugged Daria. "Thanks, sis." She flipped her hair and grinned. "So, how is life in Boston?"

"Relatively uneventful. Just how I like it."

"Daria, promise me that you're not just sitting around the house all the time doing nothing."

Daria snickered. "No. Sometimes I'm doing Trent."

"Daria!" Quinn looked shocked, but turned to Trent to see he was grinning. "Hmpf. The two of you are perfect together."

Trent reclined the chair. "Yeah. I think so."

"You haven't taken her anywhere lame on a date, have you? Because Tom did that. And for a guy with a lot of money to take you to drug store to look at *greeting* cards for a date? That's just lame."

"He made a picnic and then took me to look at the stars," Daria said. "Is that romantic enough for you?"

Quinn smirked. "It's a start. But where else has he taken you?"

"Trent has lived up here for less than a month, Quinn. Give us both time to discover places. Because, you're right, Tom was horrible about it."

Turning to Trent, Quinn frowned slightly. "Okay, *Daria* will never tell you all of this stuff, and if I wait on you to figure it out, then it'll take for-*ever*. Daria likes any restaurant that brings you bread when you sit down. So, Italian places, steakhouses, and seafood places. She likes pizza, but none of the big chains. Local chains are still okay. She likes when you hold open doors to places for her, but she does *not* like it when you open her car door or try to push in her chair for her. And if you need to know her sizes to buy her some jewelry, call me because I doubt she even knows."

Trent stared at her for a moment, then turned to Daria. "Is all of that true?"

Daria slumped forward. "Maybe more of it than I'd like to admit."

"Hmm... I guess you're not *such* a bad sister, Quinn."

"Thanks!" Quinn pursed her lips as she looked at Daria. "You know what? I'm going to blow off my date. Let's all go out to dinner!"

"We should wait for Jane to get back, too." Daria turned back to Quinn. "What was this about you giving me money I heard earlier? I miss that."

"Oh, all right. $200 for spending the night."

"Quinn, I can't take all of your money." Daria smirled. "You can give me $100 and pick up the tab for dinner."

"You're getting soft, Daria." Quinn got up and grabbed her purse, then rifled through it for a moment before handing Daria five $20 bills.

Once Daria had tucked the money away in her pocket, she turned to Trent. "What's that really expensive place we were talking about eating at?"

Quinn stuck her tongue out at her sister. "You and your loopholes!"

"It's good having you here, too, Quinn." Daria hugged her sister tightly. "I do miss you every now and again. And then I smell the lavender in the bathroom and realize I can wait until Christmas. Speaking of Christmas, any idea what Mom and Dad's plans are?"

"You know, the usual. Plan a vacation, cancel at the last second, and then be bitter but joyful when we find a way to come home despite our other plans. I was hoping to have a date this year, but I guess we'll see."

"You might be able to borrow Jane."

Trent snickered. "Yeah, if she'd have you."

"I'll have you know that Jane would be doing really good if she could land me, Trent!" Quinn pointed a finger at him and made a face.

"She's got standards. At least, I think she does. I mean, she's never really dated anyone good, but she's been pretty picky. Ah, hell, I'm just pretty sure she's not interested in girls like that. I think she said something about that once. I was trying to listen, but I was sleepy."

"Long car ride?" Daria raised her eyebrows.

"Nah. Pretty sure I was driving."

"Okay, people. Dinner's my treat, but no more than $20 each! I have to get my favorite strappy heels fixed."

Daria asked, "Wouldn't it be cheaper just to buy a new pair?"

"Not quite. And, besides, they're my lucky pumps! They're the shoes I was wearing when I graduated, and when I got my promotion." She nodded solemnly. "If there's a fashion god, he blessed those shoes."

"Then why didn't he keep them from breaking?"

"Duh, Daria, to test my faith!" Quinn grinned. "Let's watch some TV until Jane gets here. Do they still do that Sick Sad show thing?"

"Why would you want to watch that?" Daria picked up the remote anyway and started flipping through the channels.

"Because isn't that model who used to do the encylopedias hosting now? I want to see what she's wearing."

Daria rolled her eyes. "Hey, at least we can compromise on something."

Trent leaned back on the recliner and watched the two sisters talk, thinking that maybe their relationship wasn't *that* much different than his with Janey.

End: Chapter 17. 


	18. Chapter 18

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 18 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Trent leaned back in his chair at Amy's Asian Buffet and sighed. He picked up another napkin from the stack and wiped his mouth. Most of the butter that had been dribbled liberally across his chin clung to it, but his face still shone in the light. His fingers were mostly dry now, but they still smelled strongly of butter and crab. Once Jane had gotten home, they'd decided on something Asian, and had ended up here when Daria expressed interest in the $12.95 all-you-can-eat buffet with snow crab legs. Trent had managed never to have them before, but had soon taken a liking to them. He had strong enough fingers that the legs were easy to crack, and the girls all passed him the bits they had a hard time with. Daria grumbled as she exerted pressure against a claw to no avail. She attacked it with a claw cracker, and managed to dent it. With a sigh, she handed it to Trent. He braced his thumbs against the side and pressed it firmly, cracking it deftly. He pulled it apart carefully and handed the meaty end back to Daria.<p>

Quinn moaned around a buttery mouthful. She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "Okay, no one tell me how many calories there are in this. I'm pretending that the butter is fake and that crab has negative calories, okay?"

Jane laughed and forked a section of meat into her bowl of melted butter. "Is that like how you can argue that doughnuts have zero calories as long as they have a hole?"

"Doughnuts? Okay, I like junk food sometimes, but that's like taking a cake, frying it, and then adding melted icing to the top."

"Which is different from pancakes how?" Daria asked as she dragged another piece of crab through her butter.

Jane poked at the pile of empty crab exoskeletons. "I feel like maybe I should have eaten *one* vegetable."

Trent pointed to the buffet. "They had some broccoli up there. You could dip that in the butter, too."

Daria stood up. "I'm going to look at the dessert before deciding whether I'll fill up on crab." The other three at the table just sat there for a few minutes until she came back holding a plate. "Okay, I had to put it on the plate to try it, but we have a yellowish pudding that tastes like nothing, some canned fruit that looks and tastes like the skin from the nothing-pudding, some dried out orange slices, a solidified glob of centuries-old raisins, and "Chinese doughtnuts". Except these don't have holes, so they have calories. And they taste like canned biscuits that were fried and rolled in powdered sugar."

Trent reached forward and grabbed one. He chewed it for a moment, then frowned. "Yeah, I think you're right. Um, I could make dessert if you guys don't mind waiting a little bit."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "What do *you* know how to make?"

"Um, I think we have the stuff for strawberry cobbler at home."

Jane's fingers had been inching toward the doughnuts, but she stopped suddenly. "Ooo... Mom's old recipe?"

"Yeah. The really good one."

"Where did you get it? She hasn't made that in years!" Jane looked at Trent intently.

Trent leaned toward her. "Turns out mom had an old cookbook. I found it in the cupboard one day."

"I'm glad I didn't eat any vegetables. Gotta save room for the fruit."

Daria stretched her arms to the sides, then leaned forward on her elbows. "Is this stuff really that good?"

Jane clutched her hands in front of her and looked skyward. "Back when we all used to live in the house, we'd have it once a week or so. I don't know that it's the best thing you'll ever have, but it's still really good. I used to ask for it for my birthdays."

"Well, if you can have it for a birthday, I can try it." Daria wiped at her hands with another napkin. "Let's head out and get to it. I do need to proofread my paper tonight."

Quinn frowned. "Why didn't you do that earlier?"

"I like to have a little mental space between me and my work before I try to correct things."

"Oh! I did something like that with the lookbook I made up of my work clothes. I knew if I didn't step back from it, I was going to think that pleather and wool could be combined in the same look and that I could wear wooden jewelry with it, too. I mean, brr!"

Daria faced Jane. "My parents are sure I'm related to her, right?"

Jane shrugged. "Yeah, but they did drugs, right?"

Quinn kicked Daria under the table. "Since I'm buying dinner, you're supposed to be nice to me."

Laughing, Daria scooted her chair toward Trent. "I'll be nice to Trent. He's making dessert."

"Just save your 'niceness' until you're behind closed doors, okay?" Jane stood up. "Okay. Shall we?"

Quinn picked up the check and headed up to the desk with her purse after dropping a $10 bill among the carnage of butter-soaked napkins. Trent stood up and offered his hand to Daria. She used it to balance herself as she stood. The three of them made their way over to Quinn who was accepting her change. "Okay, guys. Let's do this dessert thing. I had way less than any of you here, so I can have extra dessert." She looked to Trent. "Well, if it's good."

Trent chose not to tell her about the whole stick of melted butter that was the base of the cobbler crust. "It'll be good."

They had walked to the restaurant and the walk back now was peaceful and quiet. Trent took a deep breath of the night air and held it in his lungs, then expelled it slowly, delighting in the way his breath looked like puffs of smoke in the night air. Daria took his hand silently and pulled him onward. "So," he said as she squeezed her hand. "What are we going to do tonight?"

Daria looked thoughful for a moment. "Try to take over the world?"

"I'd settle for cuddling, but we can do that."

Leaning against Trent, Daria bit her lip and smiled as she said quietly, "Cuddling? Well, if that's all you're willing to do, I suppose I'll take it. I had planned on more, though."

Trent laughed. "Well, I wouldn't want to ruin any of your plans. You can just do to me whatever you want."

Quinn looked over at Jane and frowned. "They're not, like, *loud* at night, are they? I need my beauty sleep tonight. I have to go into the new Cashman's here and make sure the opening goes perfectly. I'm supposed to be overseeing the whole thing, but I feel like I'm kind of in over my head, and maybe also like I'm being sabotaged. I mean, I asked if I could go in there today to get a feel for the layout, but I've been *assured* that it's just like the ones I'm used to dealing with and that they were fumigating today so, like, I couldn't have gone in anyway."

Jane let silence hang between them for a moment. "Do you breathe?" She shook her head. "Trent and Daria have not yet made it a habit of sleeping together, so I can't say how loud they'll be. But, I do have an extra pair of ear plugs if you want them."

Glancing back at Trent and Daria, Quinn smiled. "I'll take them. If I don't have to use them, oh well. And if I do, well that's at least good for Daria."

"Just in case, what time do you need to be up in the morning?" Jane saw that they were approaching the apartment and went ahead and dug her keys from her pocket.

Quinn put a finger up to her cheek in a manner that looked far too posed. "Um, the store's supposed to open at 9, so I guess I need to get up at 5."

"5am?" Jane said as she unlocked the door. "It won't take that long to get there."

"Duh. I need to shower, get dressed, do my makeup, do my hair, have breakfast, do my lipstick, and *then* drive over to the bank to oversee the account info, and finally head to the store to make sure it's all good to go before we open." She sighed. "I really wish they'd given me an assistant."

Jane smiled and turned to Daria and Trent who trailed languidly behind them. "You guys head on upstairs, I guess. I'll get the princess her stack of mattresses and a single pea. We'll raid the ice cream if we really need dessert."

Daria waved off her friend and walked hand-in-hand with Trent up the stairs.

With Quinn's help, the sofa bed was set to rights within moments. Jane ran upstairs for a moment and came back down with a pair of ear plugs. "You... might need these."

Quinn rolled her eyes, but smiled. "You know, if they get married, that'll make us kind of sisters too, won't it?"

Jane's eyes went wide. "Wow. Yeah. I never quite thought of that, but yeah."

"Well, that's cool. You at least seem to know *something* about fashion, even if you seem to focus on the weird parts of it."

"Just what I wanted to hear." Jane grinned. "Go to bed. If I get up and you haven't yet, I promise to kick you."

With a smug look on her face, Quinn sat on the edge of the bed. "Thanks, sis!"

End: Chapter 18. 


	19. Chapter 19

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 19 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Jane rubbed her eyes and turned back to her computer to finish drafting an email to send off to her professors. It was only mid-afternoon, but the amount of sleep that she had gotten was dwarfed by the amount she hadn't gotten. She'd been planning to skip her 8am class anyway, so she'd stayed up late since her next class wasn't until noon. One thing had led to another, and she'd gotten so involved in finishing up a painting she'd been working of for weeks that it was just after 5am when she finished cleaning her brushes. Seeing the time and remembering that Quinn wanted to be up that early, Jane threw on her bathrobe and padded down the stairs in bare feet. She heard Quinn's cell phone alarm going off, but Quinn didn't seem to be noticing. Then again, she *was* wearing ear plugs. Jane approached the bed and shook Quinn's shoulder.<p>

With a yawn, Quinn sat up. "What time is it?"

Jane held up a hand with the fingers spread, then pointed to her own ears. "Time to wake up, princess."

Quinn quickly realized that the ear plugs were still in her ears and pulled them out. "Wow. It's 5am already? Ugh."

"Want me to get some coffee going for you?"

"Tea, if you have it, please! If not, coffee will do." Quinn moved to the side of the sofa bed and stood up. "I won't bother anyone if I go ahead and shower, will I?"

Jane shrugged. "I figure that you're a paying customer, so who cares. I know Daria will be glad not to have to battle you in a few hours, though."

Quinn nodded and gathered up her clothes and toiletries. "Thanks, Jane."

"Wait... how are you getting to the mall?"

"Oh, the company is sending over a car for me."

"Must be nice."

"It is!" Quinn said as she climbed the stairs.

Yawning as she retreated to the kitchen, Jane pulled out a kettle, filled it with water and started heating it. As she did so, she grabbed a notepad and a pen and scribbled a note. "Quinn, here's my cell phone number if you need it during the day. Good luck with your opening and thanks again for dinner last night." Jane finished reading out the note and scrawled her name and phone number at the bottom. She wasn't sure what time Quinn had planned on leaving, or even when she'd be done with her job, but just in case she needed to get in to get something and no one was there and she didn't know where the spare key was, Jane wanted to be prepared. The kettle whistled and she prepped two mugs of tea: a cup of English Breakfast for Quinn, and a decaf mint for herself. She drizzled a little honey in her tea and then left the bear-shaped container on the table. Yawning again, she headed upstairs and fell into bed, still in her robe.

It was around 7:30am that her phone started ringing. She glanced at it through barely-opened eyes, then nuzzled her head further into the pillow when the ringing stopped. When it started again almost immediately, she groped for the phone with her eyes closed and hit the "send" button firmly before holding it up to her ear. "No, Summer, your kids are not here."

"Summer? No. It's Quinn. It's an emergency!"

"What?" Jane hauled herself upright and blinked a few times. "What's wrong, Quinn? Are you in trouble?"

"Only if you can't help me! See, I budgeted $10,000 for art around the store and when I got here 20 minutes ago, there is no art. I didn't know that *I* was the one who was supposed to be, like, finding it and stuff. You do art. What do I do?"

"Um, well, *I'm* an artist. But why would you need art hanging in Cashman's, anyway? Don't places like that usually just have prints?" Jane scratched her head and tried to smooth out her hair a little.

"*Department* stores have prints, Jane. Cashman's is an upscale boutique. We have signed originals." There was a pause. "Wait! Do you have anything you can bring over?"

"You want to buy *my* art for Cashman's?" Jane felt slightly more awake now.

"Bring over as *much* as you can as *fast* as you can. Come to the south entrance and I'll have someone there with a cart or something. If I can find a few I like, then the $10k is yours. Otherwise, would you mind if I just hang them to have *something* there for the day? I'll give you at least $500 for that."

Jane bit her lip and glanced around the room at the various finished pieces she'd been hoarding. The gallery that showed her pieces only took a few at a time. She could do this, right? "Okay, Quinn. I'll call you when I'm almost there. Traffic's gonna be bad right now, but I'm sure we can get something in place before you guys open."

"Jane?" Quinn took a deep breath. "Thank you!" She hung up the phone and left Jane in silence.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." Jane stood up and glanced at several of the paintings. Did Quinn want them in frames? She'd framed several of them herself, but there were several without frames, as well. Well, maybe frames could be added later. Looking down at her crumbled robe, Jane grimaced and tossed off her clothing as fast as she could and throwing on the first outfit she could find: a long red sweater and a pair of black yoga pants. She passed up the boots for a pair of flats and grabbed the first load of paintings. She loaded as many as she could in her car, tossed her purse behind the seat and raced to the mall.

The drive that took around 15 minutes normally stretched to more than twice its normal length thanks to traffic as well as an accident at an intersection. Jane alternated opening her mouth for screams, sighs and yawns. When she finally spotted her turnoff for the mall, she pulled up to a red light and called Quinn. "I'm almost there," she said. "You can send down your cart, now."

Quinn breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Jane. I'll have them come right down. Remember: south entrance. Just pull up to the curb. I've cleared it with those parking guys."

Jane hung up and pulled forward when the light turned green. She was *so* tired, but she was almost there. The yawn that overtook her made her eyes tear up, but she finally pulled up to the south entrance where two attractive men were ready to help her. She got out of the car and popped open the trunk and directed the two guys into carefully stacking the paintings on the cart. She yawned again and shook her head. "I wish I'd just stayed up," she said to herself.

One of the men pushing the cart, a tall blond with an upturned nose, turned to her and gave her a smile that seemed to energize her some. "Didn't get much sleep?"

She shook her head. "No. A few hours, but not enough to really function on."

He gestured to the empty end of the cart. "Hop on."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," he said. "Mark won't mind. I'm James, by the way." He held out his hand.

"Jane," she said as she shook his hand. She grabbed her purse and locked her car, then sat on the end of the cart and laughed as Mark and James pushed her through the mall. By the time they reached Cashman's, she was already feeling a lot more like herself.

"Jane!" Quinn ran up to them and started looking over the paintings as Jane stood up. "Okay, I want this one for dressing room one, this one for the employee break room, ooo!" She pulled out a piece that Jane had done of pink flower petals falling into a stream of blood. "Okay, this one is interesting. I want this one behind the register." She leafed through a few more. "Dressing room two, dressing room three, and this one for just outside the bathrooms." She bit her lip. "Hmm. No." She looked up at Jane. "Okay, these six. How much?"

Jane shrugged a little. "I've been selling paintings for about $1000 each lately, so I guess $6000?"

Quinn pursed her lips and squinted at the picture of the falling petals. "As much as I'd like to do that, you *are* practically my sister now, so I can't undercut you. We normally don't do this much art in a Cashman's store, but these all really complement the fashions this season, and pink and red is supposed to be really big next season, so I'm going to make a gamble. $15,000."

"For six paintings."

"Did you really never go in the Cashman's in Lawndale?"

"Um... no."

"The paintings in there are worth about a quarter of a million. They, like, appreciated in value. It's an investment, Jane."

Jane's eye widened. "Wow."

"I had to take a course in what kind of interior design elements our customers want to see. Your stuff is just abstract enough to make people think without getting into that ugly stuff, so this really isn't much of a gamble. My budget was $10,000, but I left a little leeway in the budget just in case. I mean, they were kind of stupid and waited until just before Christmas to open this place, but Cashman's doesn't really do a whole lot of business for the gifting crowd. So, I'm sure we'll do with with getting sales for nice dresses for Christmas and New Year's parties."

Jane sat back down and rested her arms on her knees. "Wow. Um, just, wow."

"We've got some standardized contracts I'll need you to fill out. They basically say that we own the paintings, but not the copyright, but we still require that you make no more than 100 prints of each available so that we remain at least *kind* of exclusive for having the original."

Nodding, Jane stood up again, but lost her balance a little as the cart slid. James was quick to steady her with an arm under her elbow. Quinn rolled her eyes. "Geez, James. Would you just ask for her number already?"

And he had. And after giving it to him, signing some paperwork, and designating which side was the top of one of her paintings, she headed home. Quinn would bring a cashier's check with her when she came back to pack up her things, so now she just had to wait. She finished off the email to her professors and sent it off, glad that the unofficial policy at BFAC seemed to be that if art was the reason you missed your class, then the absence didn't count against you. She was riding high on adrenaline, but still felt too tired to do much, so she busied herself around the apartment. Laundry (including Trent's), dishes, folding the sofa bed back up, and then she watched TV until Daria got back from school.

Jane practically exploded off the couch as Daria walked through the door. "You are not going to *believe* the day I just had!"

"That bad?" Daria set down her bag and took a seat on the couch as Jane settled back down.

"No! That *good*! I made $15,000!"

Daria furrowed her brow. "This isn't one of those Nigerian Internet things, is it? Because I'm pretty sure those are scams."

"No. Your sister needed art for the store she's opening and she bought *six* of my paintings!"

"Quinn did?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "No. Your *other* sister. But, yes! Quinn did! I wasn't sure she remembered that I *did* art, but she seemed to really like it. And a guy asked for my number!" She fell back on the couch. "I think I'm finally over the perfume incident."

"I should say so." Daria looked thoughtful for a moment. "So, now that you've sold six painting at $2500 each, does that mean you're going to up your prices at the gallery?"

"Hmm. I hadn't thought about that. I mean, I probably should. And with this much money, I can afford to be wrong for a little while." Jane pulled her legs up under her on the couch. "I just made enough money that I could buy a new car... outright."

Daria smiled and leaned forward to wrap Jane in a hug. "You deserve it." She pulled back. "Now, maybe you should go take a nap? I don't how a guy found you attractive with bags under your eyes big enough that *I* noticed."

Jane rolled her eyes. "I'll go nap, sure. But let me know when Quinn gets back. I want to thank her again, and take everyone out to dinner."

"Deal." Daria watched as Jane went upstairs and listened for her door to close before opening her bag and taking out the pile of mail she'd shoved in it on her way inside. She saw an envelope with her name of it and her breath caught in her throat. She ripped open the envelope as fast as she could and pulled out the enclosed letter. She read through the contents and covered her mouth.

She wanted to talk to someone, but Jane needed her nap, and Trent was at work. She pulled out her phone and dialed her parents number. It rang for a moment, then her mother answered. "Hello? Morgendorffer residence."

"Hey, Mom."

"Daria! What a surprise! Your dad and I were just talking about you."

Daria fiddled with a button on her jacket. "Dad's there, too?"

"Yes, sweetie."

"Could you put the phone on speaker?"

"Of course. Is something wrong?"

Daria heard a beep and heard more background noise in the audio she was hearing. "No. The opposite of wrong. You remember me telling you about the agent I had talked to a few weeks ago who wanted to see more of my work?"

"Yes. Oh, Daria!"

"I just got a contract from him. He wants to represent me."

Jake yelled, "Woohooo!" and Helen gasped. "Daria! That's great! But I hope you won't be stupid enough to sign it without faxing me a copy first."

Rolling her eyes, Daria chuckled. "No, Mom. I'll send you a copy from campus tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to it, dear." Jake was still shouting in the background, but Daria couldn't quite make out the words. "By the way, has everything gone okay for Quinn up there? I worry about her off by herself."

"She's fine, Mom. We had a great dinner last night where she actually ate butter and didn't moan about it, too much. And today, she did something really nice for Jane."

"Oh? What was that."

"Elevated her status in the art world." Daria shook her head.

"Now, sweetie, how would Quinn do that?" Jake was now war whooping in the background. "Jake! Calm down."

"It seems that Cashman's makes a point to keep real art on the walls. Quinn bought six of Jane's paintings for the place for $15,000."

"I'm glad. I've liked what I've seen of Jane's art, well, the stuff that's a little less on the *morbid* side anyway. Give her our congratulations. And speaking of the Lanes, how are things going with Trent?"

Daria groaned, but answered anyway. "Things are good. I'm happy. I'm also safe before you ask."

"Now, Daria, he's not putting any pressure on you, is he? Because sometimes attractive boys don't always take 'no' for an answer, and you know that's why we took that class together."

Rolling her eyes, Daria grinned. "Mom, I've had a crush on him since I was 15. I think the pressure in this case came more from my side than his."

"Oh." Helen paused. "Well, in that case, I suppose you'll be bringing him for Christmas?"

"I thought you guys were going away for Christmas."

Jake piped up. "I thought we were, too, kiddo, but the cruise ship we were supposed to be taking kind of fell apart."

"Oh. Well, in that case, I suppose I could invite him."

"Jane, too. I wouldn't want to break up a family at Christmastime."

Smiling, Daria said, "But it was perfectly fine for everyone to do whatever they wanted to Thanksgiving?"

Helen laughed. "Daria, it's Thanksgiving. In our family, that only means eating too much. I wasn't going to ask you to drive 6 hours for turkey when you could use the time to have fun instead. Christmas has presents, though, so I expect to see you. Let us know if Trent and Jane are coming so I can get a little something for them, okay?"

Daria grumbled her assent. "And, um, thanks for listening."

"Thanks for calling, sweetie. And congratulations on getting an agent. I knew you had it in you."

"I did too, kiddo!"

"Thanks, guys."

They said their goodbyes and Daria hung up her phone and stuck it back in her pocket. She smoothed out the contract again and read over some of it, barely able to contain her joy. She and Jane were moving up in the world. For that matter, so were Trent and Quinn. She couldn't wait for dinner that night. She was pretty sure she'd let Jane buy it.

End: Chapter 19. 


	20. Chapter 20

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 20 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Trent could see Daria talking to a waiter while their own waiter was bringing food to the table. She had gone to the bathroom a few minutes beforehand, so maybe she was mentioning a lack of toilet paper? They'd gone out to dinner at a pretty fancy place to celebrate Jane's paintings selling for so much, so Trent figured she was discussing dessert of some sort. When she came back to the table, he just smiled at her and put his arm around her shoulders when she sat down. She kissed him softly and he was intrigued by just how happy she seemed. "Hey. Everything cool?"<p>

Daria laughed low in her throat. "Yeah. Everything's cool."

Pulling his arm off of Daria's back, Trent adjusted the tie he'd worn. He would have chanced just a nice shirt, but Daria had impressed upon him beforehand just how fancy the place was. He believed it when he saw the prices. It was $12 for a salad! But Janey had kicked his shins and told him that she wanted to spend at least $300 for dinner, so he let himself order a filet mignon. He cut into it now and tried it. He moaned audibly around the food in his mouth at the flavor. He'd had steak before, but never this good.

Quinn made a face at him. "Trent, you're making, like, porn noises over that poor steak. It's disgusting."

Daria snorted lightly as she dug into her own steak. "I would think that disgusting would be your lobster. You know they're called the cockroaches of the sea, right?"

"Cockroaches can't really live in the sea, can they?" Quinn looked panicked for a moment.

Jane cut into her Beef Wellington and smiled. "Don't worry, Quinn. I'm sure that they're still more closely related to shrimp than cockroaches, and if you can eat those..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Quinn dug a chunk of meat out of her lobster and ate it despite her misgivings.

At that moment, their waiter approached the table with a cart. He cleared his throat. "The lady," he indicated Daria briefly, "has requested a bottle of champagne. I've brought over a lovely 1993 Mumm de Cramant for you to enjoy." He took a moment to open the bottle and pour a glass for each of them.

Jane quirked an eyebrow at Daria. "Is this because I said it had to be at least $300? I would have been fine with a margarita, you know."

Daria took a deep breath. "Actually, I'm buying the champagne, and it's not just for you. While I'm very proud of your achievement, and the fact that your nap has made you able to function more like a human being again, I also want to celebrate the fact that I have an agent who wants to take me on. I got the contract in the mail today."

Quinn gasped. "Oh, Daria! Congratulations! I assume you're going to have Mom look over the contract first?"

"Oh course I am, Quinn. But this particular agent represents several of my favorite authors, so I'm pretty confident that she won't be too upset by anything she sees in it." She held up her champagne glass. "So, a toast... to all of us. We're growing up and proving that maybe it isn't so bad after all."

Jane, Quinn and Trent lifted their glasses as well and they all clinked them together and drank heartily.

Putting down her glass first, Quinn sighed. "I'm going to be sad to leave. I actually had fun!"

Swishing the champagne in her glass and watching the bubbles, Daria said, "This visit was significantly better than the last."

Smiling sheepishly, Quinn said, "Is it too late to apologize for the perfume? I mean, it's really the fault of those government people who made it where everything has to be, like, 3 ounces or less. I had a 3.5 ounce container of perfume! One lousy half ounce!"

Trent looked up from his steak. "Why didn't you just ship it back home? Don't they even have places for that in the airport now?"

Quinn opened her mouth to reply, but frowned. "Um, oops?"

Daria cut off another piece of steak. "Hey, the smell's almost gone now. And you've mostly redeemed yourself. In fact, next time you're going to be in town, you can call me directly and not have Mom do your dirty work."

"Daria! Like I would ask Mom to talk to you for me." She grinned. "Okay, was it that obvious?"

Jane took another swig of champagne. "Even I figured that one out. And, damn! I could get used to this. Good friends, good food, some bubbly alcohol... If I needed any more motivation to make it doing this art thing, this is it."

Trent grinned. "I hope it happens, Janey. It couldn't happen to a better sister."

"So, if Penny's... whatever it is she's doing now takes off and becomes bigger, then what?"

"If tree bark lampshades become the new thing, I'm sure you'll do it better."

Jane nodded and struck a fighting pose. "I'd take birch bark and dye it with blood!"

Daria snorted. "The blood from cutting off your ear?"

Grinning, Jane said, "Nah, a boob. You still have one's Dr. Shar gave you, right? I might need to borrow one."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You guys are so weird!"

Trent looked up from his steak again. "What's that about a boob?"

"Trust a man to focus only on the important parts of the conversation," Jane said as she aimed at Trent's shins with her foot.

Looking shocked as Jane's foot found its target, Trent said, "Hey! What did I do?"

Daria kissed his cheek. "You were a man. Some women get mad about that sometimes."

Trent shivered momentarily. "Ms. Barch. I never could tell if she hated me or was hitting of me."

Jane grimaced. "I think I'm going to lose my Beef Wellington."

When dinner was over and they were back at the apartment, Quinn made quick work of packing her bags. She sat them by the door and yelled, "Daria! I'm ready!"

Jane came down the stairs. "How about I drive you?"

"Really? Well, let me at least go say goodbye the Daria." Quinn set down her purse.

Putting a hand on Quinn's arm, Jane said, "Um, you might want to just call her tomorrow."

"Oh?" Quinn's eyes windened. "Oh! I take it she's, uh, celebrating? With Trent?"

Jane nodded. "Yeah. They were getting a little moony and I gave 'em the go ahead. I'd rather get out of here before they get loud."

"Ew."

"Eh, it could be worse."

Quinn shuddered. "Ms. Barch."

Jane mirrored the action. "Yuck." She picked up Quinn's smaller suitcase. "Come on. Time's a-wastin'!"

Picking up the rest of her luggage, Quinn followed Jane out the door. "Oh, and Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"When that James guy calls tomorrow? Do not second-guess yourself. Go on the date. Have fun. Forget Tom and enjoy being with an attractive guy who wanted your number when you were, well, rumpled. I mean, he never even asked for *my* number!"

"Then maybe it *is* true love!" Jane said as she popped the trunk to her car. "Get in, princess. Jane's gotta go where the open road takes her!"

After piling her luggage carefully in the trunk, Quinn shut it smoothly and said, "As long as that road takes us past the airport and you're willing to pause for a moment, I'm game."

Jane nodded as she put on her seatbelt. "Hmm... deal."

End: Chapter 20. 


	21. Chapter 21

Title: With An "Uh", And An "Um" (Part 21 of ?)  
>Author: Kimmie Fandom: Daria Type: long fic, ongoing Rating: PG-13 (so far)<br>Disclaimer: Daria was not written by me! I only wrote this fic.  
>Summary: A "What If?" What if Trent moved to Boston after the end of the canon timeline?<p>Trent scratched his head and yawned as Jane came through the front door smiling. "Janey? You aren't just getting home, are you?"<p>

Jane laughed and took off her jacket. "Yup! I stayed up late... or early..." She yawned lightly, but shook it off. "Is there any coffee?"

Gesturing toward the kitchen, Trent nodded. "Yeah. It just finished brewing. Pour a cup for me, too?"

"Liquid breakfast it is!" Jane marched to the kitchen and came back moments later with two steaming cupfuls. "Daria still in bed?"

"Mmm... nah. She had some meeting early this morning with her advisor."

"Ouch." Jane grimaced. "She normally scores a better meeting time than this."

Trent cleared his throat. "I may have distracted her a little right before she had to head out to sign up for that."

"Stop!" Jane held a hand in front of herself. "I don't want to hear it."

"Whereas, I *do* want to hear what kept you out so late... or early..."

Jane sat down on the couch and shrugged. "We were... talking. I met him at a bowling alley, we were both miserable at it, but we had fun. He asked if I wanted to go to an all-night pancake place with him, and next thing I know? We were actually there all night. You could have punched me in the face as I noticed the sunrise and I'm not sure which one would have shocked me more."

"So... good?" Trent finally let himself sit on the edge of the armchair.

"Yes, Trent. Good. You can stop worrying about poor, lonely Janey for a bit."

Trent drank another measure of coffee. "I wish I could stay and talk a bit, but they asked if I'd come in early today. Some big order or something. Whatever. I get off a little sooner, so maybe we can do dinner?"

Jane bit her lip. "Um... I'm kind of seeing James again tonight." She swirled some of the coffee in her mug. "You can make it a nice night in with Daria. I mean, you told the girl you can make pizza, but you haven't proven this yet."

"Yeah..." Trent nodded. "Cool. Okay, Janey. Gotta get to work. Don't think I don't realize you're skipping a class right now."

"Damn!" Jane scowled. "This teacher doesn't take attendance and there's nothing due today?"

"Uh huh." Trent stood up and walked to Jane, leaning down to hug her quickly. "Hey, if I can make it some place on time, you can."

"If anyone else were making that comment, Trent, it wouldn't mean nearly as much." Jane swigged back the rest of her coffee and headed upstairs to get ready.

Trent finished his own coffee and brought both mugs back into the kitchen, He grabbed a cereal bar and ate it on the short walk to work, making sure to brush off any errant crumbs before walking through the front doors. He clocked in and headed to the deli and went through the morning routine. Paulie was there with him, and they were making good time on putting together a large platter of lunch meat and cheese with Paulie cutting it and Trent arranging it.

Paulie was searching through the cases for the kind of ham they were supposed to be using. He groaned when he pulled out a small chub of it. "This is all that's left. Can you believe that?"

"Is there another one in the fridge?" Trent fanned out slices of cheddar with bits of wax paper in between.

"Nah. I had to go in there for the turkey and I didn't see any of the ham. And there's enough here, but just barely." He unwrapped the plastic from the meat and loaded it into the slicer. Trent watched for a bit as Paulie sliced the meat, but turned his attention back to his task.

Moments later, he heard the slicer catch on something and heard Paulie gasp and scream. Trent looked up and saw the the slicer had cut off a large section of the tip of Paulie's finger and he was quickly losing blood. Grimacing, Trent tore off his plastic gloves and grabbed a clean apron. He ran over and folded the apron over a few times and pressed it firmly against Paulie's thumb. "Look, man, don't sweat it. Hold this in place. We'll get this take care of." Trent looked out to see if anyone had noticed. "Ron!"

The older man in produce looked up from where he was picking out overripe bananas. "Yeah?"

"Call an ambulance and get a manager back here. Paulie's hurt and bleeding bad." Ron's eyes widened and he ran off toward the front of the store. Trent looked around and saw a large chunk of pale flesh sitting on the floor. Feeling bile in his throat, he turned toward the meat department. "Jeff! Bring me some ice as fast as you can."

Jeff looked confused, but turned quickly to head through a set of swinging doors. Trent turned his attention back to Paulie, instructing him to continue to sit on the floor, breathe and not to get too excited. When Jeff came into the deli less than a minute later with a bag of crushed ice, Trent instructed Jeff to help calm Paulie down. Trent slid on a fresh glove and picked up the piece of thumb and slid it into one of the bags for lunch meat, horrified as the fingernail separated from the flesh. He sealed it and placed it into the bag of ice, and tied it off at the top.

Looking at Paulie for a moment, Trent frowned and knelt next to time. "It's okay, Paulie. You're probably going into shock. Are you cold?"

Paulie nodded slowly. Trent mouthed curses and grabbed for a few more clean aprons. He wrapped them tightly around Paulie and willed the ambulance there faster. It was an excrutiatingly long few minutes before Mrs. Fieldmont came running over with two EMTs pushing a stretcher behind her.

And like that, it was over. Trent was being told he could go home for the rest of the day, and he was being led away from the streaks of blood on the floor and the slicer, and away from the surfaces that still seemed to echo Paulie's scream. Trent nodded and tossed his apron into the hamper and peeled off the one glove he was wearing to throw it in the trash. He glanced back to see Paulie loaded up and being pushed away with the bag of ice by his feet. Trent clenched his hands into fists and headed to the back of the store to clock out.

Hours later, Daria came home to find Trent sitting on the couch and hugging his guitar to his chest. "Practicing?"

Trent licked his lips. "Something like that."

Daria checked her watch. "You're home early. Did something happen?"

"Um..." Trent set the guitar to the side of the couch, a single note sounding as his thumb ran across a string. It echoed in the room for a moment. "I was working with Paulie this morning. I don't know how he did it, but he sliced off a big portion of his thumb. There was a lot of blood."

"Oh, Trent. Is he going to be okay?" Daria sat down next to Trent and put a hand on his forearm, rubbing at the tattoo there.

"Probably. I mean, I did what I could to put pressure on it and we got the finger on ice. I had this bad dream years ago about playing too fast and slicing off my fingertips, so I read up on what to do. You know, just in case. Then I found out it'd be pretty unlikely to happen. But I was reminded of that dream when it happened. And I know that Paulie may never be able to use that finger right anymore, and I thought that if it happened to me, would I still be able to play?"

"You're scared, aren't you?"

Trent nodded and placed his hands together, running his fingers over one another. "Yeah. I mean, maybe he was doing something he really shouldn't have been doing. I wasn't really looking. But, what if? I don't know if I could ever really make it in a band anymore, but playing helps me get through things. So, I'm thinking of quitting."

Daria pulled one knee up onto the couch so she could turn to look at Trent more closely. "Don't quit. Not music, and not your job. Instead, go to your boss and express your concerns and see what they can do for you. If, after talking to them, you still feel the same way, then look for another job first. But, who knows? Maybe things can work out okay. Maybe you'll feel better after talking to them."

Trent reached over and grabbed Daria's hand and held it firmly between his own. "Thanks. I needed that."

"You're welcome. Oh, did you see Jane this morning?"

"Yeah. She was out all night with that James guy. They're going out again tonight."

Daria quirked an eyebrow upward. "Wow. She's moving fast. But it's good for her. But since she'll be gone, what do you want to do for dinner?"

Trent smiled. "Well, Jane suggested I make pizza."

"Homemade pizza?" Daria's eyes widened slightly.

"Yeah."

"You *do* know the way to a girl's heart."

End: Chapter 21. 


	22. Chapter 22

Trent scratched his head and yawned as Jane came through the front door smiling. "Janey? You aren't just getting home, are you?"

Jane laughed and took off her jacket. "Yup! I stayed up late... or early..." She yawned lightly, but shook it off. "Is there any coffee?"

Gesturing toward the kitchen, Trent nodded. "Yeah. It just finished brewing. Pour a cup for me, too?"

"Liquid breakfast it is!" Jane marched to the kitchen and came back moments later with two steaming cupfuls. "Daria still in bed?"

"Mmm... nah. She had some meeting early this morning with her advisor."

"Ouch." Jane grimaced. "She normally scores a better meeting time than this."

Trent cleared his throat. "I may have distracted her a little right before she had to head out to sign up for that."

"Stop!" Jane held a hand in front of herself. "I don't want to hear it."

"Whereas, I *do* want to hear what kept you out so late... or early..."

Jane sat down on the couch and shrugged. "We were... talking. I met him at a bowling alley, we were both miserable at it, but we had fun. He asked if I wanted to go to an all-night pancake place with him, and next thing I know? We were actually there all night. You could have punched me in the face as I noticed the sunrise and I'm not sure which one would have shocked me more."

"So... good?" Trent finally let himself sit on the edge of the armchair.

"Yes, Trent. Good. You can stop worrying about poor, lonely Janey for a bit."

Trent drank another measure of coffee. "I wish I could stay and talk a bit, but they asked if I'd come in early today. Some big order or something. Whatever. I get off a little sooner, so maybe we can do dinner?"

Jane bit her lip. "Um... I'm kind of seeing James again tonight." She swirled some of the coffee in her mug. "You can make it a nice night in with Daria. I mean, you told the girl you can make pizza, but you haven't proven this yet."

"Yeah..." Trent nodded. "Cool. Okay, Janey. Gotta get to work. Don't think I don't realize you're skipping a class right now."

"Damn!" Jane scowled. "This teacher doesn't take attendance and there's nothing due today?"

"Uh huh." Trent stood up and walked to Jane, leaning down to hug her quickly. "Hey, if I can make it some place on time, you can."

"If anyone else were making that comment, Trent, it wouldn't mean nearly as much." Jane swigged back the rest of her coffee and headed upstairs to get ready.

Trent finished his own coffee and brought both mugs back into the kitchen, He grabbed a cereal bar and ate it on the short walk to work, making sure to brush off any errant crumbs before walking through the front doors. He clocked in and headed to the deli and went through the morning routine. Paulie was there with him, and they were making good time on putting together a large platter of lunch meat and cheese with Paulie cutting it and Trent arranging it.

Paulie was searching through the cases for the kind of ham they were supposed to be using. He groaned when he pulled out a small chub of it. "This is all that's left. Can you believe that?"

"Is there another one in the fridge?" Trent fanned out slices of cheddar with bits of wax paper in between.

"Nah. I had to go in there for the turkey and I didn't see any of the ham. And there's enough here, but just barely." He unwrapped the plastic from the meat and loaded it into the slicer. Trent watched for a bit as Paulie sliced the meat, but turned his attention back to his task.

Moments later, he heard the slicer catch on something and heard Paulie gasp and scream. Trent looked up and saw the the slicer had cut off a large section of the tip of Paulie's finger and he was quickly losing blood. Grimacing, Trent tore off his plastic gloves and grabbed a clean apron. He ran over and folded the apron over a few times and pressed it firmly against Paulie's thumb. "Look, man, don't sweat it. Hold this in place. We'll get this take care of." Trent looked out to see if anyone had noticed. "Ron!"

The older man in produce looked up from where he was picking out overripe bananas. "Yeah?"

"Call an ambulance and get a manager back here. Paulie's hurt and bleeding bad." Ron's eyes widened and he ran off toward the front of the store. Trent looked around and saw a large chunk of pale flesh sitting on the floor. Feeling bile in his throat, he turned toward the meat department. "Jeff! Bring me some ice as fast as you can."

Jeff looked confused, but turned quickly to head through a set of swinging doors. Trent turned his attention back to Paulie, instructing him to continue to sit on the floor, breathe and not to get too excited. When Jeff came into the deli less than a minute later with a bag of crushed ice, Trent instructed Jeff to help calm Paulie down. Trent slid on a fresh glove and picked up the piece of thumb and slid it into one of the bags for lunch meat, horrified as the fingernail separated from the flesh. He sealed it and placed it into the bag of ice, and tied it off at the top.

Looking at Paulie for a moment, Trent frowned and knelt next to time. "It's okay, Paulie. You're probably going into shock. Are you cold?"

Paulie nodded slowly. Trent mouthed curses and grabbed for a few more clean aprons. He wrapped them tightly around Paulie and willed the ambulance there faster. It was an excrutiatingly long few minutes before Mrs. Fieldmont came running over with two EMTs pushing a stretcher behind her.

And like that, it was over. Trent was being told he could go home for the rest of the day, and he was being led away from the streaks of blood on the floor and the slicer, and away from the surfaces that still seemed to echo Paulie's scream. Trent nodded and tossed his apron into the hamper and peeled off the one glove he was wearing to throw it in the trash. He glanced back to see Paulie loaded up and being pushed away with the bag of ice by his feet. Trent clenched his hands into fists and headed to the back of the store to clock out.

Hours later, Daria came home to find Trent sitting on the couch and hugging his guitar to his chest. "Practicing?"

Trent licked his lips. "Something like that."

Daria checked her watch. "You're home early. Did something happen?"

"Um..." Trent set the guitar to the side of the couch, a single note sounding as his thumb ran across a string. It echoed in the room for a moment. "I was working with Paulie this morning. I don't know how he did it, but he sliced off a big portion of his thumb. There was a lot of blood."

"Oh, Trent. Is he going to be okay?" Daria sat down next to Trent and put a hand on his forearm, rubbing at the tattoo there.

"Probably. I mean, I did what I could to put pressure on it and we got the finger on ice. I had this bad dream years ago about playing too fast and slicing off my fingertips, so I read up on what to do. You know, just in case. Then I found out it'd be pretty unlikely to happen. But I was reminded of that dream when it happened. And I know that Paulie may never be able to use that finger right anymore, and I thought that if it happened to me, would I still be able to play?"

"You're scared, aren't you?"

Trent nodded and placed his hands together, running his fingers over one another. "Yeah. I mean, maybe he was doing something he really shouldn't have been doing. I wasn't really looking. But, what if? I don't know if I could ever really make it in a band anymore, but playing helps me get through things. So, I'm thinking of quitting."

Daria pulled one knee up onto the couch so she could turn to look at Trent more closely. "Don't quit. Not music, and not your job. Instead, go to your boss and express your concerns and see what they can do for you. If, after talking to them, you still feel the same way, then look for another job first. But, who knows? Maybe things can work out okay. Maybe you'll feel better after talking to them."

Trent reached over and grabbed Daria's hand and held it firmly between his own. "Thanks. I needed that."

"You're welcome. Oh, did you see Jane this morning?"

"Yeah. She was out all night with that James guy. They're going out again tonight."

Daria quirked an eyebrow upward. "Wow. She's moving fast. But it's good for her. But since she'll be gone, what do you want to do for dinner?"

Trent smiled. "Well, Jane suggested I make pizza."

"Homemade pizza?" Daria's eyes widened slightly.

"Yeah."

"You *do* know the way to a girl's heart."


	23. Chapter 23

Daria licked pizza sauce off of her bottom lip and smiled. The pizza Trent had made for her last night was good then, and was still good the next day as she typed out some website content. She was back from school and waiting on Trent to get home from work. The fact that he wasn't already home was a good sign to her that he hadn't ended up quitting after all. Or, if he had, that he was actively looking for another job before he came home. Finishing up the file she'd been working on, Daria sent it off and checked the time in the bottom corner of the computer screen. If Trent had worked his regular shift, he would be home any moment. Jane had called earlier to let her know she had an unprecedented third date with James, so she and Trent were on their own for dinner again. Grabbing her plate, Daria walked it downstairs to the kitchen and had just put it in the dishwasher when she heard the door open. "Trent?"

"Hey, Daria." Trent joined her in the kitchen and gave her a hug and a kiss before sitting down at the kitchen table.

Daria sat across from him. "How did it go talking to management?"

Trent sighed. "Um, it was kind of weird. They said they understood completely. Then they said they had two other options available. Well, three. I could either go back to being a bagger, or I could move to overnights as a stocker, or I could try to be a department manager at the location they're opening in a few weeks on the other side of town."

"I guess there are pluses and minuses to all of those."

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't mind being a bagger, but the money's better in pretty much everything else. If I worked nights, I'd never see anybody, and I think I just got used to being awake during the day. And as nice as the money would be if I went up to department manager, I don't know if I want to drive 20 minutes every day to get to work, plus I don't know if I'm ready for that."

Daria put a hand over his on the tabletop. "Decide what's most important to you. Sure, money can be really nice, but there's going to be stress with that manager position. Well, more stress. More responsibility. You've already made some impressive strides just to get to where you are right now. I mean, you've only been up here a little less than a month and a half, and you've got this opportunity. You could say no and try for it when you feel ready. Or... you could try and see if maybe you're more ready than you thought."

Trent nodded solemnly. "Yeah. They told me they need an answer before I leave for Christmas. And I did get cleared to be off for a few days since I told them when I started I'd need off for it."

"Okay. Oh, by the way, does your family do some sort of get together that you'd like me to come to?"

"We do... we'll call it brunch. Whatever Lane family members are in town come by and there's pancakes, bacon, eggs, fruit, and whatever else anyone feels like making. We usually split by lunchtime, though."

Daria smiled. "I think I can manage that if you can manage to follow me back to my parent's house and do our traditional 4 o'clock turkey dinner. The turkey is usually from scratch. The trimmings are usually not. My mother only has *some* standards."

Trent shrugged. "The last time we tried to do a dinner, Mom and Penny made it all vegan. I'm pretty sure the main dish was lentils and dirt. There might have been some pepper in it."

Holding in a laugh, Daria squeezed Trent's hand again. "Then let's be glad of store-bought stuffing."

"Maybe I'll try out that job. It wouldn't really start before Christmas except a little of the training, and it *would* be nice to tell Uncle Max I'm not a bum anymore."

"I'm sure there's a story behind that."

Trent shrugged. "Family reunions."

"That one you and Jane always get pushed into attending?" Daria smiled at Trent.

"We haven't gone in a few years. After that last time with, like, six of us sharing a bed? I couldn't take it."

Daria gave him a quizzical look. "But you'll let me share your bed?"

"Hey, isn't it that you're letting me share your bed?" Trent rubbed the tattoo on his upper arm absent-mindedly.

"At this point, I kind of figured it was becoming *our* bed. That's so strange to me, though. For all the time I was with Tom, I never got to the point of thinking of the two of us as, well, an 'us'."

"But we're an us?"

Daria cocked her head sideways. "Despite the odd grammar of that sentence, yes. I always had something of a connection with you. Well, as soon as I could make myself talk to you. You've made a habit of being more than you seem."

Trent wrapped his arms around Daria and pulled her close. "Meeting you changed my life. It just took a while."

"There's nothing wrong with that." Daria pressed her face against him and smiled, soothed as she was by his warmth. "Everything has just changed so much since you got here."

"Has it really?"

"Hmm... New boyfriend, agent, sister doesn't annoy me as much, best friend has boyfriend that never dated me... Those are all pretty big changes in my life."

Trent laughed. "I can think of one other change you could do."

"Oh?"

Pulling away from Daria slightly, he pulled up her shirt and traced a finger along her navel. "I only got to see your belly ring when you got it put in. You should get it pierced again."

"No." Daria laughed. "It itched like crazy. But, as a joke a few years ago, Jane bought a fake one for me. And for you, and only you, I will put it on."

"Mmm... kinky."

Daria snorted. "No. That's not kinky. Human ice cream sundaes are kinky."

"That sounds nice, too." Trent pressed a kiss to Daria's neck and held her close as she shivered. "We should try that sometime."

"I... have no objections. Except that I'll want to get some kind of rubber sheet or something for the bed first. No sense sleeping in whipped cream unless you're into that kind of thing in the first place."

Trent laughed hard enough to send himself into a coughing fit. "Daria, that's one of the things I love about you. Say, you want to try anything else?"

Daria blushed and bit her bottom lip. "Let's try one thing at a time." She smiled softly up at Trent. "Thanksgiving is going to be interesting."

"Oh?"

"I did mention that, at my parents house, I only have a twin bed, right?"

"Ah, that kind of interesting."

Daria pressed herself closer to Trent again. "One of the best kinds."

Trent ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah. Just like my life."

"Hmm. Maybe after dinner."

With a grin, Trent released Daria, opened a drawer, and took out a wooden spoon. "Yeah? What would you like?"

"Whatever you're making."

Trent handed over the spoon. "That's all I have the patience for right now. It's high in fiber."

Daria took the spoon and swatted at Trent's butt with it. "Fine. Make something that has to cook untouched for a while. We'll call it a compromise."

"Lasagna?"

It took quite a while to get Daria to explain the look of horror that had crossed over her face. Trent worked on throwing together a casserole of mostly leftovers instead. Compromise. That's what made it work.


End file.
